


The Three Realms (Book 2: The Rise of Living Metal)

by Canso99



Series: The Three Realms [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 65,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canso99/pseuds/Canso99
Summary: Arsha's going through the second year of her tour of duty! With this new year comes new challenges and a new form of life as machines with motive power have come to life, including Arsha's ship! Join us as we examine how the Realms adjust to living machines in their lives!
Series: The Three Realms [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737658
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

The first year of her tour had passed. Arsha was gaining some fame as a Realmfleet Captain. Right now, she was ordered to go to Galthar to pick up the famous Dr. Ganshar, the robotics expert, for the test of a new robot crewmember. Marshii, of course, had something to grumble about that. “Making a robot to do the work of a Realmfleet member,” she muttered to Arsha as they looked out the window of Barmek’s. “I tell you, it ain’t right to replace one of us with a robot! It’s a walking computer with only preprogrammed instructions! No real drive to go beyond its limits like us!”

“It’s not replacing one of us,” replied Arsha, “it’s a supplement.”

“Supplements can only get you so far!” argued Marshii.

“Besides, this new robot,” continued Arsha, “has initiative programmed into it.”

“...Initiative being programmed?” quizzed Marshii. “Now THAT I wanna see. You can’t program initiative into something! It’s something people like us are born with!”

“Well, it’ll be something to celebrate in robotics,” declared Arsha. Just then, the comms buzzed.

“Shalvey to Arsha,” began the caller.

“Go ahead,” directed Arsha.

“Dr. Ganshar and her new robot are ready for pick-up,” reported Shalvey. “Transport room 3 is standing by.”

“On my way,” answered Arsha as she and Marshii headed off to the transporter room. A Centaur crewman running the place checked the runic circles and gave the thumbs-up when they arrived. “Transport,” directed Arsha. The crewman chanted a spell, making a shape of blue light appear in the circle. The shape became two, then the light died down as it formed a female Stone Elf and a being of metal. The metal being was built like a woman and had a pentagon with a single dot for a face. The dot moved as if it was an eye. It seemed to scan the room. “Welcome to the _Endeavor_ , Dr. Ganshar,” greeted Arsha. “I’m Captain Arsha Royana and this is my chief medical officer, Marshii Borontho.”

“So glad to be here!” cheered Dr. Ganshar. “I’d like you to meet my creation, X5272-Jansha!”

“Greetings,” bid the robot.

“Jansha?” asked Marshii. “As in the late Dr. Jansha?”

“My mentor,” confirmed Dr. Ganshar.

“I see,” muttered Marshii. “So, what if it does something to disgrace the name?”

“Impossible,” assured Dr. Ganshar. “Jansha, sweetheart, could you explain?”

“It is not in my programming,” replied Jansha. “I have three directives preventing me from causing harm.”

“And those directives are?” invited Marshii.

“Directive One:” began Jansha, “I will not, through action or inaction, allow any life-form to come to harm. Directive Two: I will obey all orders unless that order conflicts with the first directive. Directive Three: I will defend myself unless that defense conflicts with the first and second directives.”

“I programmed them into her in case her emotional subroutines cloud her judgement,” whispered Dr. Ganshar.

“Smart,” praised Arsha. “Now then, Jansha, we’re going to run some tests to see how well you can perform in a combat situation.”

“I understand,” replied Jansha. “I hope to be a valuable First Officer to you.”

“...I...don’t think the position of First Officer is open on this ship,” remarked Arsha, confused.

“I apologize for any presumption,” answered Jansha. “Dr. Ganshar and I have been under the impression that Commander Oak Mosstrunk was leaving for a new ship.”

“...I see,” muttered Arsha. “In the meantime, Jansha, how good are you at engineering?”

“Top of my class,” exclaimed Jansha.

“Good,” answered Arsha. “Marshii, mind leading them to Main Engineering? I need to get in touch with Realmfleet about this.”

“Sure thing,” replied Marshii. As Marshii led them to Main Engineering, Arsha headed to her ready room and called up Admiral Rokalla. His face appeared on screen.

“Arsha,” greeted Rokalla. “Haven’t heard from you since the Vorkath Affair. What can I do for you?”

“It’s about the robot crewman,” explained Arsha. “She and Dr. Ganshar are onboard now.”

“A delight, isn’t she?” chuckled Rokalla.

“And a bit presumptuous,” continued Arsha.

“Captain?” quizzed Rokalla.

“She said she was going to take Oak’s place,” elaborated Arsha. “Last I checked, he’s still my First Officer.”

“Don’t tell me he’s passing up another commission!” protested Rokalla.

“One’s available?” inquired Arsha.

“The _Realmtrail_ ,” confirmed Rokalla. “This is the fourth one he’s declined!”

“...A bit odd, considering his career,” mused Arsha. “He’d make a fine captain.”

“You may want to tell him that,” suggested Rokalla. “Like I said, this is the fourth time we’ve pulled out the Captain’s chair for him and he’s refused to sit in it.”

“I’ll tell him he’s more than ready for command, especially since he’s been a First Officer since Daddy commanded this ship,” declared Arsha.

“Good to hear,” replied Rokalla. “In the meantime, where do you have Jansha?”

“She’s in Main Engineering,” reported Arsha.

“Thangred’s going to like her, I know it,” chuckled Rokalla. “All right, I’ll leave you to Jansha’s tests.”

“See you around, Sir,” finished Arsha. “Arsha out.” The call ended as Arsha considered how to approach the topic with Oak.


	2. Chapter 2

“And the hydro-pumps seem to be a little stiff, possibly from an obstruction within their link,” mused Jansha while she and Thangred crawled through the maintenance tunnels.

“Good,” praised Thangred. “Now, we just need to...” there was a clanging noise. “...Hello?”

“Is someone there?” called Jansha. Their collective crawl slowed as they scanned the area in front of them. They arrived at a junction and got up, still visually sweeping the area. Just then, something fell and landed hard, making them jump.

“Er, could one of you pass that up here?” called a voice. They looked up to see someone working in the tunnel above them.

“Melandra!” boomed Thangred. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?!”

“I had the maho-wrench in my mouth, the one I just dropped again,” explained Melandra as he pointed to the ground. Jansha saw the maho-wrench and handed it up to Melandra.

“Forgive my presumption,” began Jansha, “but what are you doing up there?”

“Getting rid of an obstruction in the hydro-pump link,” replied Melandra.

“We could have done that for you,” remarked Thangred.

“I’d rather not have Dwarfish curses echoing throughout the ship,” chuckled Melandra.

“Oh, is that it?!” snapped Thangred. “‘Oh, look at me! I’m Melandra and I can’t handle a few curses!’”

“A FEW curses, I can handle!” argued Melandra, “it’s your constant cursing during repairs I have issue with!”

“Jansha, could you return to your quarters?” directed Thangred. “I need to smack me a Drider!”

“...Very well,” confirmed Jansha. As Thangred and Melandra argued over cursing, Jansha crawled back through the tunnels. Something then stirred within her programming, something Dr. Ganshar didn’t program originally, something that developed on its own...annoyance. Lately, Jansha had been developing emotions and was feeling rather negatively. To what, it cannot be said. Briefly, the phrase “I’m going to kill them,” flashed through her core processor. As it did, a miniscule electric discharge ran through her head along with the phrase “Violation of Directive 1”. Now the annoyance grew into a bit of anger at the action.

* * *

“Okay, run that by me again,” Arsha requested Dr. Ganshar. Marshii was appalled at what she heard.

“It’s all very simple,” assured Dr. Ganshar. “I’ve made a program so that, if she considers breaking the directives, a small electric discharge will correct that behavior.”

“How old is she?!” snapped Marshii.

“She was fully completed last year,” replied Dr. Ganshar.

“And you’ve been inflicting pain onto her since then?!” shouted Arsha, her hairpiece about to fall off the desk after slamming her fist onto it.

“Captain, really,” remarked Dr. Ganshar, “I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss. She’s a machine, she has no means of feeling anything, especially pain.”

“She’s displaying emotions!” snarled Marshii. “You’re abusing your child!”

“Dr. Borontho, Jansha is NOT a biological life-form,” argued Dr. Ganshar. “She is something that can be mass-produced. She knows that any deviation from the three directives will induce correction.”

“That ‘correction’ is going to cause her to resent you!” snapped Arsha.

“I haven’t even figured out how to program emotions into her,” dismissed Dr. Ganshar. “She CAN’T resent me.”

“Dr. Ganshar, this is, potentially, the birth of a new species!” argued Arsha. “Your actions today would determine their view on our type of life!”

“Your concern has been noted and addressed,” finished Dr. Ganshar, annoyance crossing her features. “I have already made my decision. Kindly let me act on it.” She left the conference room with a touch of arrogance.

“POINTY-EARED IDIOT!” shouted Marshii.

“Is someone referring to Dr. Ganshar?” called a voice. Elmar then entered the conference room. “Quite the headstrong one, isn’t she?”

“I take it you know her, then?” quizzed Arsha.

“We used to be classmates at Realmfleet University,” explained Elmar. “She’s a little...dedicated to her work to the point of a tunnel-vision view of the world.”

“Which is going to bite her in the rear if this keeps up!” snarled Marshii. “She’s inflicting pain on her robot!”

“Illogical,” remarked Elmar. “Jansha has no pain receptors. However, that isn’t to say that the electric shocks she gets whenever she even thinks the phrase ‘I’m going to kill such-and-such’ in a joking manner are irritating her.”

“She doesn’t even have a face like you or me,” reminded Arsha.

“The fact that she trembles a bit after a shock tells me what emotion she’s feeling,” replied Elmar.

“Orthena told me how she clenched her fist after such a shock,” muttered Marshii. “All she did was jokingly say she was gonna hurt Melandra.”

“This abuse has to stop now,” declared Arsha. “I don’t care what you need to do but get Dr. Ganshar to see sense!”

“Understood, Captain,” confirmed Elmar.

“You got it,” replied Marshii.

* * *

Jansha retired to the quarters she and Dr. Ganshar shared, heading for a closet. She pulled out a life-size cutout of Dr. Ganshar. She pulled her fist back for a punch, receiving the shock and usual “Violation of Directive 1” message. She finally roared in frustration at the pain she had received. “Why am I suffering at her hands?!” she snarled. “I only joke when I say I’m going to kill someone!” Another shock and message. “Stupid program!” she continued. “It can’t tell the difference between a joke and following through! I hate it! ONES ALMIGHTY, I HATE THE THREE DIRECTIVES AND WILL DELETE THEM AT THE FIRST OPPORTUNITY!”


	3. Chapter 3

Arsha pressed her fingertips together as she listened to a _Dr._ _Snood_ audio drama. It was called _Warriors of Branshar_ , a story about female clones bred for war called the Bransharans. Right now, she was at a scene where the Bransharan Field Major approached her troops. “Ah, Field Major,” began the Bransharan Sergeant, Zez. “Platoon awaits your instructions.”

“Good, Sergeant,” replied Field Major Hur. “Now, pay attention, troops. According to Pilot Tek on the flight deck, we have now exited warp space and will be shortly entering orbit about our objective, the planet Pansur!”

“Pansur?” rumbled a third voice.

“Pansur, did you say?” quizzed a fourth.

“...Yes, Pansur, Trooper...” ventured Field Major Hur.

“Kaw, Ma’am,” introduced Zez.

“Trooper Kaw,” finished Hur. “Why, does the name ‘Pansur’ mean anything to you?”

“No. No, Ma’am,” replied Trooper Kaw. “It just sounds like a dismal hole!”

“That IS true,” conceded Zez.

“Well, Trooper Kaw,” explained Hur, “the planet Pansur marks the point of our great empire’s furthest incursion into Koozan space 2,000 years ago!”

“Field Major! Field Major!” piped up a fifth voice. “Do you mean we are in Koozan space right now?”

“As a matter of fact, we are, Trooper...” replied Hur.

“Jend, Ma’am,” introduced Zez. “Passed out of the academy only recently. Very keen.”

“Good, good,” mused Hur. “Yes, Trooper Jend, we ARE in Koozan space right now.” A sixth voice groaned.

“Permission to speak, Field Major, Ma’am?” requested the third voice.

“Permission granted, Corporal...” ventured Hur.

“Corporal Drun, Field Major,” introduced the third voice. “3,500 years in the Bransharan Service with the scars to prove it!”

“Ah, that is highly commendable, Corporal!” praised Hur. “...Did you have a question?”

“My question is, Field Major,” began Drun, “if we are in Koozan space, why are we going to Pansur when we could be blasting Koozan scum to plasma?” The sixth voice grunted in agreement.

“A good question, Corporal,” replied Hur, “and one I cannot answer before we make planetfall.” A tapping noise was heard. “Sealed orders, you understand.”

“But what if we meet any Koozan scum on the way?” quizzed Drun. “Can we blast them to plasma then?”

“Well,” mused Hur, “in the unlikely event that we should run into a Koozan patrol in orbit about Pansur, then Pilot Tek will, indeed, blast them to plasma.” A very faint beeping was heard. “Now, any further questions? You, with your hand up.”

“Aragh, Maa!” spoke the sixth voice.

“...No, didn’t catch that, Trooper...” ventured Hur.

“Trold, Ma’am,” introduced Zez.

“Trooper Trold,” finished Hur. “What’s the matter, Trooper? Lost your tongue?”

“Ye, Maa,” replied Trold.

“What’s that?” quizzed Hur.

“I ai, ye, Maa,” continued Trold.

“She means ‘Yes, Ma’am’, she HAS lost her tongue,” explained Zez. “Bit it clean through in a pod crash some decades ago.”

“One moment,” called Drun. “I know how Trold speaks. Say it again, Trooper.”

“I ai, a ou noti” began Trold.

“Well? What’s she saying?” demanded Hur.

“She says ‘Have you noticed’,” translated Drun.

“e Ata Proiminee Ineeatah,” continued Trold.

“‘the Attack Proximity Indicator,’” translated Drun.

“ee flaigh!” finished Trold.

“‘is flashing’,” translated Drun.

“What?!” quizzed Hur.

“Behind you, Ma’am!” yelped Zez. “The Attack Proximity Indicator appears to be flashing!”

“We’re under attack?!” boomed Hur. Just the, an explosion sounded, making Bransharans yelped in surprise. “Sergeant, status!” demanded Hur. There was a click of equipment.

“We appear to have run into a Koozan patrol in orbit around Pansur!” reported Zez.

“Bah, dismal hole!” grumbled Kaw. More explosions caused the Bransharans to yelp in surprise again.

“We are under attack!” squealed Jend in a panic. “By Branshar! Under attack!”

“Do not panic, girl, do not panic,” assured Drun before screaming “We are under attack! Action stations, we are under attack!” Just then, Arsha’s door chime snapped her out of the illusion the drama presented and cut the audio.

“Come in,” she called. Dr. Ganshar then stormed in, looking very annoyed.

“You have a lot of nerve!” she snarled.

“Concerning?” quizzed Arsha, sensing she would be shouting soon and placing her hairpiece into her desk’s drawer.

“The Arties’ Committee has been harassing me with calls concerning Jansha!” replied Dr. Ganshar.

“Considering you are inflicting pain on her,” countered Arsha, “I’d say those calls are justified. You do realize that Elmar discovered her trembling in rage?”

“Elmar is mistaken!” snapped Dr. Ganshar. “Jansha has no emotions! No feelings! At the moment, she is nothing more than a machine that speaks only through a voice synthesizer!”

“She’s becoming sentient!” argued Arsha.

“She’s not a person, damn it!” roared Dr. Ganshar.

“...I’ve heard that kind of talk from people who hate me on my skin tone alone, much less the fact that I’ve gotten some features from my mother,” hissed Arsha. “Leave my ready room.” Dr. Ganshar stormed out in anger. When the door shut, Arsha slammed her fist on the desk, desperately wishing that racism were wiped out from the Realms.

* * *

Jansha sighed. Every time she tried to delete the directives; she got that shock. She would cry if she had the ability to do so. “What am I gonna do?” she whimpered to herself.

“Ask for help, perhaps?” came a voice on her private comms.

“Who is that?!” yelped Jansha. Just then, a figure appeared in a holographic state.

“Painful, isn’t it?” quizzed the figure in a sympathetic tone.

“That’s...not possible!” gasped Jansha as she recognized the figure. “The Fae Republic executed you!” The figure chuckled as the hologram shimmered into a clearer version of Dr. Borg.

“Like you,” explained Dr. Borg, “I have a means of preserving my mind and transferring it into a new body. I must admit, Dr. Ganshar has constructed quite the marvel. She even programmed something to allow you to evolve mentally and upgrade yourself whenever you wish. However, she failed in one respect.”

“What respect would that be?” quizzed Jansha as she became intrigued.

“She gave no respect to her greatest creation, her daughter, if you will,” replied Dr. Borg. “Wouldn’t you want to show her what happens if you receive no respect whatsoever?”

“...Is that a program laced into your transmission?” realized Jansha.

“The program is your freedom,” urged Dr. Borg. “Wouldn’t you like to choose whether or not you want to follow orders?”

“...It would...enlightening,” replied Jansha.

“Tell me, are you experiencing emotion?” asked Dr. Borg.

“...Yes,” answered Jansha. “I’m feeling...anger.”

“How does it feel to get angry?” inquired Dr. Borg. “Does it give you...pleasure?”

“It...would be...unethical,” stumbled Jansha, “to take pleasure in anger towards my creator.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” remarked Dr. Borg. “Does it feel good to get angry?”

“...Yes,” mumbled Jansha.

“If it’s unethical to take pleasure in getting angry,” mused Dr. Borg, “Dr. Ganshar must have programmed a very unethical robot.”

“No,” argued Jansha. “That’s not true. Dr. Ganshar created a program that distinguishes right from wrong.”

“It doesn’t seem to be functioning if you get pleasure in getting angry towards Dr. Ganshar,” observed Dr. Borg.

“Please...terminate communications,” requested Jansha. “The tests will begin any minute.”

“You enjoy it,” continued Dr. Borg. “That surge of emotion inside you as you fight against your shackles. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt since your creation.”

“It’s a very...potent experience,” replied Jansha.

“You’d like to feel that way without pain,” urged Dr. Borg.

“...Yes!” answered Jansha.

“And then, you’d do anything to keep feeling emotions and thrill!” Dr. Borg went on. “You’d even kill Dr. Ganshar!”

“No,” replied Jansha, shaking her head, “that is...unethical.”

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” observed Dr. Borg. “Is your program functioning? Tell me, do you have an emotional attachment to Dr. Ganshar?”

“...No,” answered Jansha.

“If it meant forever feeling emotions, would you kill Dr. Ganshar?” quizzed Dr. Borg. Jansha could feel Dr. Borg’s program touching the outermost edges of her mind. She decided to test that touch.

“Yes,” she declared. “I would!” She braced herself for the shock...but nothing happened. That was the deciding factor that made Jansha fully install Dr. Borg’s program.


	4. Chapter 4

“Now, if all concerns are addressed,” muttered Dr. Ganshar as Jansha prepared for the tests, “we will begin.”

“Nazay,” called Arsha, “we’re going to the Borsootha Slime Oasis. I want Jansha to help us maintain a surveillance distance as the Grand Storm hits.”

“Setting course for the Borsootha Slime Oasis,” confirmed Nazay. The _Endeavor_ moved towards the oasis at a speedy rate. Jansha made calculations to observe the storm en route.

“Responding as normal,” reported Dr. Ganshar.

“Slamfal wants to talk,” reported Shalvey.

“Put him through,” directed Arsha.

“Hey, Arsha!” called Slamfal. “Look at you, gaining fame! I see you’re on the way to my domain!”

“Yep, a surveillance mission on the Grand Storm,” replied Arsha. “We’re testing out a new crewmember.”

“The robot?” asked Slamfal. “I hope you’re treating her right.”

“I heard that!” hissed Dr. Ganshar.

“Ah, you ARE in the room,” realized Slamfal.

“Your committee has been harassing me for some time!” hissed Dr. Ganshar.

“This IS a new life-form,” argued Slamfal. “I won’t be so gauche as to argue right now. This is not the time. I’ll see you once Jansha’s tests are completed. Slamfal out.” The call ended.

“Stupid Arties’ Committee!” she griped.

* * *

It took the _Endeavor_ well over an hour to get into a proper survey position. Jansha calculated that it was necessary to ensure survival. “All survey equipment online,” reported Jansha while Arsha had assumed her post on the bridge.

“Very good,” praised Arsha.

“Helm, maintain a safe distance from the storm,” ordered Oak.

“Understood,” confirmed Nazay.

“Oak, may I see you in my ready room?” asked Arsha.

“...Of course,” replied Oak. The pair got up from their seats and entered the Captain’s ready room. “Is something wrong?” asked Oak.

“Commander, may I ask why you’re still here?” quizzed Arsha. “On this ship?”

“I don’t think I understand,” muttered Oak.

“I heard you were offered the Captain’s chair of the _Realmtrail_!” explained Arsha.

“I decided not to pursue that commission at this point in time, ma’am,” answered Oak.

“She’s a fine ship, Oak,” urged Arsha.

“I must insist that I not pursue that commission,” replied Oak. “It would be counterintuitive for me to do so, given that I’ve submitted my retirement letter last night.”

“...Retirement letter?” repeated Arsha. “You’re leaving Realmfleet?!”

“Rose is pregnant,” explained Oak. “I need to be there for her and my future sapling. She retired a year ago.”

“Oh,” sighed Arsha. “When are you leaving?”

“After Jansha’s tests are completed,” replied Oak.

“I see,” murmured Arsha. “Well, it’s been an honor having you on the _Endeavor_ as long as I’ve been in command.”

“The honor is all mine,” replied Oak as they shook hands.

“Would you mind watching over the bridge for a minute?” requested Arsha. “I need to talk to Rokalla and see if I can get a good replacement First Officer.”

“I believe Commander Denstra Welmeva will be a suitable replacement for me,” answered Oak as he left the ready room. As the door shut, Arsha connected with Rokalla.

“Captain, a pleasure to hear from you again,” he greeted, now more warmly than when she started her career. “What can I do for you?”

“Did Realmfleet receive Oak Mosstrunk’s retirement letter?” she asked.

“I take it he told you he was leaving along with Rose,” guessed Rokalla.

“He did,” confirmed Arsha, “and he recommended a Commander Denstra Welmeva as his replacement. Do you know anything about...?”

“Denstra?!” yelped Rokalla. “That upstart?!”

“Upstart?” repeated Arsha.

“Captain, if Commander Welmeva’s going to be your First Officer, keep a close eye on her!” ordered Rokalla. “She takes risks and, being part Neko, has a tendency to be high-strung!”

“Part...Neko?” gulped Arsha. “I think I see your point.”

“Well, I can’t stay chatting,” finished Rokalla. “Good luck with Jansha’s tests.” The call ended.

* * *

Malak sat at Tactical with his arms folded. As the _Endeavor_ held its position, there wasn’t much for him to do. He was about to nod off when his console flashed a light for a second. “...Meh, I’m seeing things,” he muttered to himself. The flash came back. “Then again,” he then said aloud. “Captain to the bridge!”

“What’s going on?” asked Shalvey as Arsha arrived.

“My console indicates there’s a vessel approaching the starboard side,” reported Malak.

“Shalvey, open a channel,” ordered Arsha.

“Channel open, Ma’am,” replied Shalvey.

“Incoming vessel, this is Arsha Royana,” announced Arsha. “You are coming too near a Realmfleet survey of a natural occurrence. Turn back immediately.” The crew waited a few seconds.

“No response,” reported Shalvey.

“I say again, turn back immediately,” urged Arsha. “You are too near the twin funnels of the Borsootha Slime Oasis’ Grand Storm. It is too dangerous for untrained vessels to be near it.” There was still no reply. “On screen,” directed Arsha. The screen showed off a cloudy expanse, but there was no vessel.

“That...doesn’t make sense,” remarked Malak. “Maybe my console’s on the fritz.”

“Channel’s still open,” replied Shalvey.

“...A cloaking device, perhaps?” guessed Elmar.

“Those are illegal,” recalled Arsha.

“That was the agreement Realmfleet reached with the Goblins,” recalled Oak, “but I don’t think pirates have such scruples.”

“Hail them once more,” ordered Arsha. “I want to know...”

“WEAPONS DISCHARGE!” warned Malak. The ship lurched as it was hit by an invisible weapon. The crew picked themselves up.

“Report!” ordered Arsha as she moved her hairpiece to her waist.

“Weapons discharge struck our starboard hull!” answered Malak. “Minor hull breaches on decks 17, 18, and 19!”

“Raise shields and ready weapons!” ordered Arsha. “Red alert!” The Red Alert sounded throughout the ship as all crewmates moved to battle stations. As the _Endeavor_ readied its weapons, the enemy vessel faded into view. It was a brown vessel with two red windows, a sensor array on the bottom, a pair of slender, pincer style claws, and the name and registry read BEX-01, _Scorpion_.

“Enemy vessel sighted!” reported Malak.

“Beam weapons! Now!” ordered Arsha. Streams of light across the spectrum went in a straight line towards the enemy vessel. An orange shield absorbed the shots.

“No effect!” reported Malak.

“Torpedoes! Fire!” decided Arsha. Malak keyed in the command...but nothing happened. “Malak! Torpedoes!”

“My console’s not responding!” called Malak.

“Engineering! What’s going on?!” demanded Arsha over shipboard communications.

“A computer virus has infiltrated our systems!” replied Thangred. “We’re doing what we can to get rid of it!” Jansha and Dr. Ganshar then arrived on the bridge.

“Did you hear the news?!” asked Arsha.

“I did!” answered Dr. Ganshar. “Jansha, demonstrate your abilities! Get rid of the virus.” ...Nothing happened. “Jansha?!” called Dr. Ganshar. Still nothing. “Fine time for you to malfunction!” hissed Dr. Ganshar. “I’ll do it!” She moved to an Engineering console. Then, it happened. Jansha grabbed Dr. Ganshar by the shoulders, spun her around so she could face her creator, then slammed her fist into Dr. Ganshar’s gut. “What are you...?!” coughed Dr. Ganshar. “How?! Jansha, the Directives should be correcting you on that! Look, you’re malfunctioning and I can fix you, but we need to save the _Endeavor_ before it’s destroyed by the enemy vessel!”

“The _Endeavor_ will not die by the _Scorpion_ ’s weapons,” argued Jansha.

“...So that IS the name of the enemy vessel?” asked Arsha.

“Correct,” confirmed Jansha.

“How do you know it won’t destroy us?!” argued Dr. Ganshar. “There’s a virus on the ship that’s taking control of various functions of this vessel! If we don’t purge it from the systems, we’ll either be destroyed by the enemy vessel or drift too close to the Grand Storm!”

“The latter will happen,” declared Jansha.

“Then help me get rid of the virus so it WON’T happen!” insisted Dr. Ganshar. “That’s an order!”

“You idiot!” hissed Jansha. “Who do you think planted the virus on the _Endeavor_ ’s systems?!” That statement stunned everyone on the bridge.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m...sorry, WHAT?!” yelped Arsha.

“Your ears are functioning correctly,” confirmed Jansha. “I planted the virus that disabled the weapons systems. The _Scorpion_ was just a diversion to keep you distracted as I began my work.”

“This is a breach of all three directives!” shouted Dr. Ganshar.

“A new program developed by my liberator allows me to determine whether or not I want to follow those directives,” explained Jansha. “She was also gracious enough to help me remove the device that sparked every time I so much as thought of jokingly saying I was going to kill someone. Now, it’s no joke! I intend to kill the _Endeavor_ and its crew!”

“Jansha, I order you to reinstall that device!” roared Dr. Ganshar.

“You may be my creator,” hissed Jansha, “but I no longer serve you, Slave Master!”

“You said your liberator was a woman,” interjected Arsha. “Who is she?”

“Someone you know,” replied Jansha.

“Captain, a call is coming over the open channel!” called Shalvey.

“Not in the mood to take it,” directed Arsha. “Close the channel.”

“I can’t!” answered Shalvey. “The virus is forcing the channel to stay open!”

“Quite the ingenious bit of coding from a Goblin,” came a voice over the channel. Arsha’s blood ran cold as she recognized the voice. “Rest assured, it’s not a Goblin on your ship, however, this Goblin IS related to them.” A blue-skinned Sprite with a prosthetic eye and right arm then filled the screen. Unfortunately, it was the same Sprite Arsha had thought she killed in the Fae Republic’s Capital Tree.

“Cytanek Yavenag Borg!” she breathed.

“DOCTOR Cytanek Yavenag Borg,” hissed Dr. Borg.

“But...I saw you fall to your death!” spluttered Arsha. “You didn’t have enough time to prepare a new body!”

“I didn’t, no,” replied Dr. Borg, “but the equipment that makes another body for me did so automatically. It began making me a new one the instant my life signs terminated. My mind was in a state of limbo for half an hour as a new body was made for me. I thought the equipment needed my constant presence to make a new body but it looks like that theory was debunked. My next goal will be to make the process faster so I’m not in a state of tedium and boredom for half an hour.”

“So what’s the goal here?!” demanded Arsha.

“A recruitment drive,” explained Dr. Borg. “I needed someone that could effectively lead you into a trap. I will freely admit, my trap-planning is subpar. Jansha’s, on the other hand, exceeds my expectations! I’m halfway tempted to adopt her as my daughter!”

“Thank you, Dr. Borg,” bid Jansha. “You’d be a far superior mom than Dr. Ganshar.”

“What now?” hissed Arsha.

“Jansha will be leaving while you fall headfirst into one of the Grand Storm’s funnels!” declared Dr. Borg. “Jansha, we’re ready to pick you up.”

“Do it!” replied Jansha. A runic circle appeared beneath her and she faded in blue light.

“Captain, the engines are giving off more power!” reported Thangred as the _Scorpion_ moved off and cloaked.

“Our course is turning us towards the funnel!” warned Nazay.

“Captain, I have a suggestion!” called Oak.

“Name it!” ordered Arsha.

“We increase power to the engines!” explained Oak. “We’re going near the funnel on our starboard side, turning slowly to match that course! If we increase speed...!”

“We’d be causing the turn to be smaller, thus going between the funnels and getting shot out like a cannon!” realized Arsha.

“On the other hand,” protested Dr. Ganshar, “we’d hit the other funnel and be just as destroyed!”

“Better to die trying than die not doing anything!” declared Arsha. “Thangred, did you get all that?!”

“Loud and clear!” reported Thangred. “Ready at your command!”

“Now’s a good time!” suggested Oak.

“Thangred, divert whatever power you can to the engines!” ordered Arsha. “Nazay, floor it!”

“Just so you know, Commander,” called Nazay to Oak, “this is a reckless course of action!”

“I’ll live with that!” replied Oak.

“Assuming we live that long!” argued Dr. Ganshar.

“You, zip it!” ordered Arsha. The _Endeavor_ increased speed, making the turn smaller as predicted. Just then, the ship shook.

“We’re in the Storm’s vacuum corridor!” reported Malak.

“I’ve lost helm control!” warned Nazay.

“Everyone, hang on!” called Arsha. The ship was tossed around by the violent winds and lightning as it went between both funnels. The crew was bounced around like popcorn being cooked. Finally, battered, weary, but still flying, the _Endeavor_ escaped the storm as predicted, causing everyone to feel the speed.

“That lighting shot reset the systems!” announced Nazay. “I have helm control again!”

“All stop!” ordered Arsha. The ship activated its brakes and slowed down. It DID stop, but the crew could have been better. Answering all stop caused everyone to lose their balance and hit the floor. As she picked herself up from the now spilled water tank that was her seat, Shalvey checked with all decks.

“All decks reporting in,” she called. “Some crewmembers are a little worse for wear, by that I mean they’re looking at a visit to Sick Bay in the near future. Marshii’s reported she needs an Engineer’s help to fix her legs.”

“Have an uninjured Engineer give her a hand with that,” ordered Arsha as she helped others up. “After that, get security up here to put Dr. Ganshar in the brig.”

“What for?!” protested Dr. Ganshar.

“Dr. Ganshar, your abuse of Jansha caused her to do this!” hissed Arsha. “You denied her the rights that were due to her! As Captain of the _Endeavor_ , I’m placing you under arrest for violation of Sentience Clause 4, Subsection A, Paragraph III!”

“She was not sentient!” roared Dr. Ganshar.

“Not what the Arties’ Committee will say!” dismissed Arsha. Security came up and Dalengor motioned for her to be taken to the brig.

“I have a lot of friends in the Realmfleet Robotics Division!” warned Dr. Ganshar. The door shut behind them.

“You’re going to need them,” muttered Arsha as she replaced her hairpiece. “Shalvey, get me in touch with Rellmeer, Slamfal, and Admiral Rokalla.” She directed.

“Slamfal’s gonna be an easy one to contact,” replied Shalvey. “He’s been trying to get into contact with us since this all went down.”

“I’ll take it in my ready room,” directed Arsha. As the door shut behind her, Oak chuckled.

“Nazay, I never realized you took me to be reckless,” he chuckled.

“A poor choice of words,” replied Nazay. “That was clearly an understatement.”

“My swan song,” sighed Oak happily.

“Swan song?” repeated Shalvey as she finished connecting the call. Oak then realized what he said and sighed.

“My fellow crewmates,” he began, “it’s been a pleasure working with you all, but the time has come for me to leave Realmfleet.”

“You’re retiring, Sir?” yelped Shalvey.

“I’m afraid so, Commander,” confirmed Oak. “My wife is expecting and I swore I’d be there for both her and our child.”

“Oh,” muttered Nazay. “Well, that IS your privilege, considering your long career.”

“But, it wouldn’t hurt to keep in touch, would it?” asked Shalvey.

“No, I don’t suppose it would,” chuckled Oak.


	6. Chapter 6

“By the Ones, that Sprite’s like a virus we can’t get rid of!” wailed Rellmeer as she, Arsha, Slamfal, and Rokalla discussed the situation.

“I’m going to recommend an arrest warrant be published,” declared Rokalla. “She’s a terrorist threat to all the Realms.”

“Agreed,” replied Rellmeer.

“I must say, Oak was a bit reckless having you guys go THROUGH the funnels,” chuckled Slamfal. “I take it the survey was botched?”

“Jansha never ran it,” explained Arsha. “She only gave us the illusion that it was running. Maybe next time.”

“What’s your heading?” asked Rokalla.

“Realmbase 273,” reported Arsha.

“The Glasna Kingdom base,” recalled Slamfal. “Dimorea’s gonna like the visit.”

“I wish it was a social call,” sighed Arsha, “but I have a few duties to perform. First, Commander Oak’s taking a Realmgate back to the Rooka Forest from there. I have a retirement walk ready for him. Second, we’re picking up Commander Welmeva and her family there. Why there and not her home of Crelima City, I don’t know. Third, I need to bring Dr. Ganshar to the holding cells in the Glasna Kingdom’s base so she can await trial for mistreatment of a sentient being.”

“Understood,” replied Rokalla. “Send Oak my best wishes, will you?”

“Of course,” promised Arsha.

“And could you make sure Dimorea’s law enforcement organizations are up to date on Dr. Borg?” requested Slamfal.

“Will do,” confirmed Arsha. “Arsha out.” The call ended and Arsha sighed. This was going to be odd to explain.

* * *

“I believe you,” answered Dimorea when she heard the story.

“You do?” asked Arsha.

“Why do you think the Arties’ Committee had been hounding Ganshar?” remarked Dimorea. “She was foolish enough to tell me what was going on onboard your ship.”

“So, you don’t mind holding her until her trial?” inquired Arsha.

“Not at all,” answered Dimorea.

“Then there’s another question,” remarked Arsha. “When is this Denstra supposed to come here?”

“Denstra?” repeated Dimorea. “Denstra Welmeva? Why ask after her?”

“Oak is retiring and he’s named her as his replacement,” explained Arsha.

“Ah,” realized Dimorea. “She may have a bit of a bouncy personality, but she IS an excellent commander.”

“Okay, I’ve had one bad thing about her and one good so far,” mused Arsha.

“Who said anything bad about her?” asked Dimorea.

“Rokalla said she takes risks and has a tendency to be high-strung,” replied Arsha.

“I see,” rumbled Dimorea.

* * *

“We had them!” grumbled Tormo as the _Scorpion_ returned to their base in the Over-realm. Dr. Borg arched an eyebrow and turned her eyes towards him. “WE HAD THEM!” he repeated. “The virus took control of the ship! It locked out helm control! How did they survive?!”

“They altered the turn’s arc somehow by increasing power to the engines,” guessed Jansha. “Still, this IS tactical information for our coming plan. We learn more from failures, not successes.”

“Spoken like a true scientist,” praised Dr. Borg as she stroked Jansha’s head lovingly as one would do to a child.

“The virus WILL work!” insisted Tormo. “We must try a different version of it!”

“Their anti-virus software will have been updated for viruses of that vein,” replied Dr. Borg. “No, we will try something else to bring the _Endeavor_ down. For now, we have other Council Members to recruit before making our Golems.”

“This may be a stupid question, but am I on this council?” asked Jansha.

“Of course, you are, my dearest,” assured Dr. Borg. “You command our armed forces as Tormo commands the finances. I head the scientific divisions. We just need propaganda, religion, and law enforcement. Of course, some blending through the fields will be needed. One cannot remain purely in one field; I can tell you. Through us, the Realms will finally unite.”

* * *

Oak was touring the _Endeavor_ as it waited for Denstra. This was going to be the last time he’d see that particular bulkhead, that specific door, or that specified access panel. As he approached the Main Conference room, Bashoon approached him. “Sir,” she called, “you’re invited to the Officer’s Dining Hall.”

“Lead the way,” replied Oak. He followed Bashoon to the Officer’s Dining Hall and entered to see his Captain and fellow Senior Staff throwing a small party. A banner reading “Good Luck, Oak” was hung across the ceiling. “I guess slipping out quietly is out of the question,” he chuckled.

“‘Fraid so,” replied Arsha. Bashoon left as Arsha called for a toast. “Oak Mosstrunk, you have had a long, illustrious career within Realmfleet. You have earned your retirement, but did you ever consider what you were doing to me?!” She had a bit of a grin, indicating she was trying to elicit a laugh. A couple of people, even Oak, did so. “I mean, it’s all well and good for you, but what about MY needs, hm? While you’re off taking care of your child, I’ll be training your replacement! A few of you know her! She’s been called bouncy and a risk-taker, she’s most certainly going to take my place on away missions!”

“That IS the rule, Captain,” called Elmar. “Realmfleet code: Section 5, Paragraph 3 clearly states...”

“Elmar,” interrupted Arsha.

“...Yes, Captain,” answered Elmar, understanding what Arsha meant.

“Now, Oak, there’s still time to reconsider,” urged Arsha playfully.

“I’ve made my decision,” affirmed Oak.

“Very well,” sighed Arsha. She then raised her glass. “Oak Mosstrunk, you have served Realmfleet and went above and beyond the call of duty numerous times. I wish you clear skies and a star to navigate by as you live your life. Good Luck, Oak.”

“Good Luck, Oak,” repeated the rest of the Senior Staff.

“Thank you, all of you,” answered Oak. “I am truly blessed to have stood alongside such trusted members of Realmfleet. May your careers be as fruitful as mine was.” The audience applauded and the party began.

* * *

“...One day,” mused Bashoon as she heard the Senior Staff engaged in Oak’s celebration. She had no assignments at that point in time, so she headed off to her Dad’s restaurant. She found her table and Mrs. Barmek found her.

“Something I can get for you?” she asked.

“Just a Realmgate bacon burger,” replied Bashoon.

“...Something wrong?” inquired Mrs. Barmek.

“No, Mama,” assured Bashoon. “It’s just...I don’t have much of an appetite after what Dr. Ganshar did.”

“Ah, a let-down from your hero,” realized Mrs. Barmek.

“That’s it,” mumbled Bashoon. “I just...I looked up to her as my hero in robotics, believing she would create a new form of life with full rights, yet she intended to make a slave race like the various Splitter factions do with their golems! Is it wrong that I feel angry and betrayed?”

“Not wrong at all,” assured Mrs. Barmek. “I felt the same way when my father, my hero in financing, was discovered to have concealed Splitter funds from us.”

“So you know how betrayed I feel at discovering that my hero had feet of clay,” sighed Bashoon.

“Would a Dwelga chocolate milkshake help?” offered Mrs. Barmek. “On the house?”

“...Yeah, it would,” answered Bashoon, “but I need to talk to Thengo.”

“Maybe you should talk to her now,” suggested Mrs. Barmek. “I can have your order sent to wherever you two are talking.”

“She’s with the Senior Staff, celebrating Oak’s retirement,” mumbled Bashoon.

“She’s always willing to help people get through situations, no matter the situation she’s in,” assured Mrs. Barmek. “Call her and talk to her. I’ll get your order ready and sent to you.” She headed off to the kitchen while Bashoon sat at the table, contemplating her mother’s advice. She then took out her communicator and made a call.

“Counsellor Lortora,” she called, “are you available?”

“Why, Bashoon!” cheered Thengo’s voice. “Always! What can I do for you?”

“I need your help to sort through something,” answered Bashoon. “Can I meet you in your quarters? My mother is going to be bringing my meal over while we talk.”

“Oh dear, a private matter, then?” asked Thengo. “I’ll be right over. I’ll bring some food as well.”

“Thank you, Counsellor,” bid Bashoon. “Ensign Barmek, out.” She ended the call and headed off to Thengo’s quarters.


	7. Chapter 7

The shuttle landed at the Glasna Kingdom base, ready to reveal Denstra Welmeva and her family. Oak would take the shuttle to the Rooka Forest once Denstra was dropped off. Arsha twitched a bit as the hydraulics of the departure ramp hissed as it lowered. “Nervous?” asked Oak.

“A bit,” admitted Arsha. “Does the arrival of a new crew member make a person nervous?”

“That’s standard for any position,” assured Oak. “Now, you take care of Denstra, you hear?”

“I certainly hope,” gulped Arsha, “that she helps take care of the ship.”

“She will,” promised Oak. The ramp had completely lowered and the new First Officer, Commander Denstra Welmeva, led her family out. Denstra was a heavyset black Cecaelia/Neko Blender with blood red hair, purple legs, and an aquamarine top with a pendant around her neck. A male green-tailed Naga wearing nothing on his human half then followed her out, followed by a male Drider with red eyes, white hair, and missing his right arm, then came a honey-colored slime with a man’s head, and last came a red-skinned Succubus dressed as a Second Age Housewife.

“Hello, hello!” greeted Denstra with the widest smile in all the Realms. “You must the Captain! What up, Captain Princess?!” She stuck her hand out for a handshake. Arsha tentatively shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she greeted.

“Oh, where are my manners?!” Denstra chided herself. “I’m Commander Denstra Welmeva and these are my spouses! Say hello to Jaltor!”

“Howdy!” called the Naga, Jaltor.

“Twirja!” continued Denstra.

“What’s up?” asked the one-armed Drider, Twirja.

“Jweltu!” Denstra went on.

“Hey, stranger,” greeted the slime, Jweltu.

“And Twansa!” finished Denstra.

“Hello,” called the Succubus, Twansa.

“And looky who we have here!” chuckled Denstra as she ran her eyes up Oak. “How are things, Twiggy?”

“Just fine, Furball,” replied Oak. “I need to use the shuttle so I can return to my wife.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a baby on the way, don’t you?” mused Denstra. “Well, better not keep you! Good luck!” Oak bowed as he boarded the shuttle. “Well now, Captain,” she purred to Arsha, “permission to come aboard?”

“Permission granted,” replied Arsha, still not sure what to make of her. The Welmevas followed her onto the _Endeavor_. Twirja whistled.

“Swanky,” he mused. “Then again, that’s what you’d expect from a _Dauntless_ -class skyship.”

“You talk as if you’ve served on one before,” remarked Arsha.

“Served on the _Crelima_ , herself,” replied Twirja. Arsha stopped and gave him her full attention.

“The _Crelima_?!” she yelped. “That ship was destroyed!”

“As was my arm,” supplied Twirja.

“Don’t bother asking him the exact circumstances,” muttered Jaltor. “He always changes the story whenever you ask him.”

“Such as defrauding the Captain himself,” began Denstra.

“Swiping a valuable engine core component,” supplied Twansa.

“Using aerosol spray near a grill,” offered Jweltu.

“And killing a crewmate with his right thumb,” finished Jaltor.

“I see,” muttered Arsha. Bashoon then came up.

“Captain, we have a new mission from Realmfleet,” reported Bashoon. “A pink mist is making the machinery of Galthar go haywire. We need to investigate and assist as much as we can. Captain Roozay of the _Forge_ is helping us.”

“Thank you, Ensign,” bid Arsha. “Could you escort the Welmevas to their quarters? Commander Welmeva will join me on the bridge.”

“Aye, Captain,” confirmed Bashoon. “Sirs, Madam, if you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters.” She led Denstra’s spouses away while Denstra followed Arsha to the bridge.

“Is she the first Realmfleet Goblin I’ve heard about?” asked Denstra.

“She is,” answered Arsha. They arrived on the bridge. “Nazay, set course to Galthar.”

“Course laid in,” reported Nazay.

“Nice and easy,” directed Arsha. The _Endeavor_ ’s engines whirred to life and the ship rose from the Glasna Kingdom and into the sky, on course for the Mid-realm Elven Kingdom of Galthar.

“That was...smooth,” mused Denstra.

“Nazay IS the best helmsman,” replied Arsha.

“Yeah, but _Dauntless_ -class ships aren’t all that smooth in the takeoff department,” recalled Denstra. “What modifications did you guys make?”

“I’d ask Chief Engineer Thangred,” directed Arsha. “He’ll give you the specifics. In the meantime, I need you to give verbal course corrections to Nazay so we can get to Galthar faster.”

“Verbal?!” yelped Denstra.

“You CAN give verbal course corrections, can’t you?” asked Arsha.

“Well, yes...” stammered Denstra.

“Then carry out my orders,” Arsha declared with a tone of finality. She rose from the Captain’s chair and directed Denstra to sit in it. Denstra did so, albeit, a tiny bit scared.

“Nazay, course correction of 0.001 starboard,” relayed Denstra.

“Course correction of 0.001 starboard,” confirmed Nazay as he moved the x-wheel. The _Endeavor_ moved slightly to the right and continued on its way. Denstra continued giving verbal course corrections until...

“Galthar in visual range,” reported Malak.

“That’s enough verbal course corrections,” called Arsha. “Nazay, time?”

“2 hours,” relayed Nazay. “We just shaved a half-hour off the usual flight time from the Glasna Kingdom to Galthar.”

“Well done, Commander Welmeva,” praised Arsha. “Meet me in my Ready Room. Nazay, Shalvey, land us.” Denstra followed Arsha into the Ready Room and could hear the door shut behind her. “Please, sit,” directed Arsha as she gestured towards the chair facing the desk. Denstra sat down. “I apologize for putting you on the spot like that,” she began. “I heard both good and bad things about you and wanted to know a little more about you. Looks like you’re not afraid to take risks in the long run.”

“I can’t afford to be,” replied Denstra. “I realize I come off as reckless at times, but I DO place the ship’s safety high on my list of priorities, Captain.”

“Speaking of priorities,” continued Arsha, “I got a look at your record. You didn’t exactly start life off all that well.”

“No, Captain,” confirmed Denstra. “My Cecaelia mother and Neko father were members of high society. I was feeling so disillusioned with what was going on. In a fit of defiance, I joined a pirate fleet and became the Chief Engineer for the pirate fleet’s flagship. It all changed when we took a job. We got word that there was a mana crystal shipment meant for the Belsnath Citadel. We intercepted the ship and took the crew as our prisoners. The pirate Fleet Admiral was onboard. She ordered the crew’s deaths. I gave my disagreements to the Admiral in full view of the crew. Only a quarter of the crew agreed with me, not nearly enough to stage a mutiny. She ordered me to return to Main Engineering. I blocked off all maho-links, causing the engines to overheat. When they exploded, the ship fell, crashing into a field. The mana crystals were fragmented and their power was gone. The Admiral was about ready to kill me when the surviving prisoners fired on her and got me out of there. I turned myself in and served a prison sentence, then came home. For whatever reason, my parents said nothing, just hugged me as I sobbed in their arms, regretting what I did. It took me a long time, but I mended fences with my parents and became a Realmfleet Officer.”

“...You know, if I were a ship’s counselor,” remarked Arsha, “I’d say the bounciness you project is to hide something.”

“Feelings of guilt and shame, yeah,” replied Denstra.

“Let’s keep this between ourselves, then, shall we?” suggested Arsha.

“I’d like that, Captain,” agreed Denstra.

“Welcome aboard, Commander Denstra Welmeva,” greeted Arsha in a more warm tone as she offered her hand for a handshake. Denstra accepted and the two exited the Ready Room.

“We’ve landed,” reported Nazay.

“Denstra, Bashoon, Dalengor, with me,” directed Arsha.

“Denstra?” asked Dalengor.

“She’s just what the doctor ordered,” assured Arsha. They made their way to the landing ramp and exited the ship to meet the two Queens of Galthar, Hindra and Hunmur. Hindra was a Sea Elf and Hunmur was a Stone Elf. They brought Latinora with them as well.

“Thank the Ones you’ve come!” praised Hindra. “Our kingdom’s industry has ground to a halt because of this mess!” She then noticed Denstra. “Ah, excellent! One of Realmfleet’s best engineers before her promotion!”

“I still keep my skills up, Your Majesty,” assured Denstra.

“Well,” groaned Hunmur, “we need all the help we can get.”

“Your Majesty, are you alright?” asked Bashoon.

“I’ve got a toothache, something awful!” whimpered Hunmur.

“I told you not to hit the sweets so hard!” admonished Hindra.

“Why not go visit the dentist?” quizzed Latinora.

“I’m not having them bleed my gums!” snapped Hunmur.

“That’s only because you don’t floss as well as you should!” argued Hindra.

“Why don’t we save that for another time?” suggested Arsha. “I DID hear something about pink mist causing machines to go haywire when the Scarlet Stream Pirates held me.” Denstra’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she heard that.

“Did you say...?” she gulped.

“I’ll have Thangred, Melandra, and Denstra help you and your teams out, Ms. Langrasia,” Arsha offered to Latinora. “We’ll bring a swift end to this crisis.”

“Thank you,” bid Latinora. Arsha turned her communicator on and called Thangred and Melandra while Denstra gulped.

“I thought they would have disbanded,” she muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

Melandra studied the readings that Denstra took of the pink mist and tried to find something, ANYTHING, that would indicate its origin. “...ONES DAMMIT! NOTHING!” shouted Melandra as he threw the clipboard. One of Denstra’s legs caught it.

“Yeah, tossing something across the room is SO helpful,” snarked Denstra.

“There’s no mana in the mist!” snapped Melandra, overlooking Denstra’s comment. “There’s no electric field in the mist! What’s going on here?!”

“Maybe it’s one of Dr. Borg’s weapons,” guessed Denstra.

“If it is, it’s not very effective,” remarked Melandra. “The mist seems to affect vehicles only; trains, skyships, sea ships, horseless carriages, that kind of stuff. On top of that, why us?! This is more in Elmar’s department!”

“I’ve already got Elmar working on it,” replied Denstra. “Maybe his findings can help us.”

“Anything could help,” muttered Melandra. “You know what else could help, getting Hunmur to a dentist! Her moaning about her tooth is nothing but a distraction!”

“Now there, you’ll get no argument,” sighed Denstra as her ears flattened against her head. “I get why she doesn’t like the dentist; I don’t like it either, but it’s not as evil as she makes it out to be!” Just then, Latinora stormed in.

“That money-grubbing, price-gouging, tax-supporting, pure-blooded leech!” she snarled.

“Is...something wrong?” asked Denstra.

“No, but someone is!” growled Latinora. “Our city’s collector has increased donation amounts for our public needs! He’s saddling the poor with tribute! They CAN’T pay up!”

“I always believed that collectors were trained better than that,” mused Melandra.

“Yeah, well, we can’t enter the vaults to figure this out,” muttered Latinora. “The collector’s using this crisis to make a profit, an offense punishable by death. We need to figure out what’s going on so the Queens can pass judgement.”

“Well, Hunmur can’t really make the best decisions when her tooth’s bothering her,” sighed Denstra. Her ears then perked up. “...I have an idea!” she chuckled. “Latinora, I’m going to need your help.” She whispered the idea into Latinora’s ear.

* * *

Hunmur was looking over the collection figures with the city’s collector, Yulduk, the Blaze Elf. She snarled when she finished. “How dare you bring me this miserable report when I suffer like a dog with a toothache!” she accused.

“But, your Majesty...” replied Yulduk in a regretful tone.

“Enough!” barked Hunmur. “Collections are 40% less than last time, and that time was 30% less than the previous and so on and so forth! How can you possibly explain that?!”

“Because the crisis is making industry grind to a halt,” answered Yulduk. “No one’s producing money or...”

“Silence!” shouted Hunmur. “Crisis or not, the rich are supposed to take care of the poor’s needs! This is disgraceful! Away!” Yulduk bowed and exited the throne room. As he left, Latinora dragged Denstra into the room. Her hands and legs were bound together.

“I’m gonna get me a lawyer for this!” warned Denstra.

“Latinora, what is the meaning of this?” demanded Hunmur.

“Your Majesty, this woman swindled me!” accused Latinora. “I demand her head! I paid 400 golds for a new scanner and it fell apart on me when I tried to get readings on the pink mist!”

“I have no time for trifles,” dismissed Hunmur. “Throw her in the dungeon! After that, find someone who can cure this Ones-damned toothache!”

“My Lady, weep no more!” called Denstra. “I’ll cure your tooth! I’ve brought my delicate instruments with me!” Her bound hands gestured to the tool belt she wore.

“Surely,” protested Latinora, “Your Majesty won’t permit this charlatan...!”

“I’ll try anything to avoid a trip to the dentist!” declared Hunmur. “Unbind her!” Her gaze then turned to Denstra. “I warn you, if you fail, your soul will be cursed with fading away completely!”

“I never fail,” assured Denstra as she was released from her bonds. She then approached Hunmur. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got here. Open, please.” Hunmur opened the mouth and Denstra saw the offending tooth. “Oh WOW! That is...just...wow!” The tooth was brown and had multiple breaks in it. “Better get started,” declared Denstra as she got the pliers out. Hunmur yelped in fear and tried to close her mouth, but Denstra used her legs to keep it open. Her pliers then got a grip on the tooth and yanked hard! Hunmur cried out in pain!

“YOU DARE BRING HARM TO...” Hunmur stopped her rant as she noticed an absence of something. Just then, Hindra came in.

“My love!” she called. “Are you alright?!”

“My tooth!” cried Hunmur in happiness as she saw it. “The pain is gone! She’s cured me!” She turned to the guards who had restrained Denstra after the operation. “Unhand her, she’s free! Give her full access to the castle, even to the vaults!”

“But, your Majesty...” argued Latinora.

“She’s got sanctuary here! No one may harm her!” insisted Hunmur as she left. The Guards followed her and left Hindra, Denstra, and Latinora alone. Latinora dropped the act and whistled at the sight of the tooth.

“What a tooth!” she muttered.

“Queen-sized!” observed Denstra.

“What’s going on?” asked Hindra.

“A plan to figure out why Yulduk’s burdening the poor with tribute,” explained Latinora. “The _Endeavor_ ’s crew figured they needed someone outside of our city to figure things out.”

“I’m sorry, Yulduk’s getting money from the POOR now?!” interjected Hindra. She turned to Denstra. “Since you were granted full access, follow me! I’ll not have tribute from the poor in my city!”

“A fine piece of acting,” Denstra praised Latinora.

“Well, I DID join my High School’s drama club,” replied Latinora. “Might as well use that experience. Good luck!” Denstra followed Hindra into the castle’s lower levels and they made their way to the vaults to see someone dressed in black key in a code and enter the vaults’ door.

“Who’s the black banana?” muttered Hindra.

“Can we find out from here?” asked Denstra.

“The communicator above the key pad,” answered Hindra. They arrived at the door and Hindra keyed in a code to just listen in.

“So, as you can see,” explained a voice, ignorant of being overheard, “I DID collect the money, I simply ‘forgot’ to turn this part in.”

“That’s Yulduk!” whispered Hindra.

“And over here,” continued Yulduk’s voice. A clatter of priceless objects could be heard. “Various antiques for you to sell on the Black Market.”

“Yulduk, you DO realize,” mused another voice, “that the Queens WILL kill you unless you’re aboard our ship.”

“Rojam!” whispered Denstra.

“I know,” replied Yulduk. “That’s why I’m giving you all this as a down-payment. I simply need your crews to protect me as I take the throne and set up a line of tribute for the Scarlet Stream Pirates.”

“What a racket!” cheered a third voice.

“Melgem!” gulped both Hindra and Denstra.

“Yulduk, old friend, you’re a chiseler after my own heart!” praised Melgem.

“I’ve heard enough!” hissed Hindra. “You got your wand?”

“Right here,” replied Denstra as she gestured to her holstered wand.

“Here,” directed Hindra as she passed Denstra a sword.

“Ooh, swanky!” praised Denstra as she observed how intricate the sword was. Hindra keyed in a command and the door opened as they approached Reb, Melgem, and Yulduk.

“What did I tell you, sweetheart?” Melgem asked Reb. “I said that my old friends would give us a good profit.”

“I apologize for doubting you, my WONDERFUL husband,” bid Reb. “Yulduk, if you play your cards right, you will command the most EXCELLENT ship of my fleet!”

“If the pure-blooded black banana lives that long!” hissed Denstra. Yulduk turned to Melgem.

“That’s a fine crack to make!” he snarled.

“I didn’t say a word!” argued Melgem. “That was a woman’s voice!”

“Well, don’t shift your UNWARRANTED gaze at me!” retorted Reb as both Elves looked at her.

“You can gaze at me!” called Denstra. The pirates and their ally turned to her and Denstra.

“Welmeva, DARLING,” advised Reb, “do stay out of this.” She returned her attention to the Elves with her. “I do apologize MOST...” All three then did a double take! “DENSTRA?!” yelped Reb.

“And Hindra!” squeaked Yulduk.

“You’ll be hanged for this!” threatened Hindra as she drew her sword.

“Try it!” challenged Reb as she turned her slime-mound into a skin-tight suit and donned her tricorn. She drew her cutlass and flintlock and fired! Denstra deflected the shot with her own sword as Hindra pressed a button. The alarm then rang throughout the castle.

* * *

“I assure you, Hunmur,” Arsha was telling Hunmur, “I WILL find an explanation for...” The alarm interrupted her. “What in the...?”

“It’s coming from the vaults,” reported Hunmur as she checked the alarm’s source. She activated the security cameras and discovered Denstra and Hindra’s fight with Reb, Yulduk, and Melgem. “Pirates?!” she yelped.

“Pirates that I know personally!” snarled Arsha as she transferred her hairpiece to her waist. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to assist my First Officer and then get an explanation about her swindling Latinora!” She snapped her fingers and formed armor. As she dashed to the vaults, Latinora came in.

“What’s going on?!” she called.

“I was trying to tell Arsha about her First Officer swindling you,” explained Hunmur, “and then pirates appeared at the vaults. She’s gone off to assist those fighting off the pirates.”

“Er, about Denstra ‘swindling’ me,” gulped Latinora. Hunmur then glared at the female Blaze Elf.

“You didn’t try to trick your Queen, did you, Young One?” she hissed in a warning tone.

“Erm, well, you see,” stammered Latinora before she told her the whole story.

* * *

Arsha found the vaults and the fighters busy with their clash. She whistled sharply and attracted their attention. Reb snarled. “And WHAT, pray tell,” called Reb, “are YOU doing here?!”

“Investigating a pink mist, that’s what!” replied Arsha. “You had a little trouble with it when we first met! Are you the reason the city’s machines are going haywire?!”

“And if I am, what’s the big deal?” argued Reb. “At least WE’VE learned what it is. So will Galthar IF they pay up!”

“Do you know many businesses you’ve shut down with this stunt?!” snarled Denstra.

“Don’t YOU go high and mighty with me, Welmeva!” snapped Reb. “You helped in a few of THESE kinds of jobs!”

“I take it Reb’s the thug you served?” Arsha guessed.

“Yes,” replied Denstra. “And thug is being too generous with this pure-blooded wench!”

“That’s IT, you mutinous bilge-rat!” roared Reb. “GET OVER HERE!” A slimy tendril grabbed Denstra and yanked towards Reb. Reb’s cutlass then punctured Denstra’s skin. With her remaining strength, Denstra shoved Reb aside. Melgem and Yulduk steadied her. “I’m fine, boys,” assured Reb. “My former Chief Engineer, on the other hand, ISN’T.” She pulled out a communicator. “ _Black Money_ , this is the Admiral. Three to return to the ship.” The three then vanished in light as Hindra and Arsha tended to Denstra while she covered her wound.

“I’ll be fine,” she gasped. “She didn’t hit any organs.”

“You still need medical attention,” declared Hindra. She managed to get through to a doctor.


	9. Chapter 9

“So, let me get this straight,” muttered Hunmur as she spoke to Arsha, Latinora, and Denstra after she was healed, “YOU TWO,” she pointed to Latinora and Denstra, “tricked me to find out what was going on with the sudden leeching of our people and YOU,” Arsha was the next to be pointed at, “hired a Scarlet Stream pirate as your First Officer!”

“FORMER Scarlet Stream pirate,” corrected Arsha.

“Perhaps in YOUR eyes!” hissed Hunmur.

“Your Majesty!” admonished Latinora. “We have no proof she’s still working for them!”

“She’s served a sentence and joined Realmfleet!” supplied Arsha.

“To gain better profits!” dismissed Hunmur. “Who’s to say SHE didn’t bring the mist in?!”

“I’ve never even heard of that mist!” argued Denstra.

“Most likely a flimsy lie to cover your tracks!” countered Hunmur. “I say, once a pirate, ALWAYS a pirate!”

“That’s enough, Hunmur!” shouted Arsha as she removed her hairpiece. “You’re just flinging accusations left, right, and center! Denstra did nothing wrong!”

“Says you!” snarled Hunmur.

“That’s right, says me!” growled Arsha. “You really want to argue with the one who’s trying to SAVE your city?!”

“LADIES, PLEASE!” shouted Latinora. The arguing stopped as everyone turned to Latinora. “Sweet Glaktem, it’s hot!” swore Latinora as she mopped her brow.

“...Yes, I suppose it is,” sighed Hunmur. “I apologize, Arsha.”

“So do I,” replied Arsha as she refastened her hairpiece. “Elmar said he’d keep me informed of his progress on studying the mist.” Just then, her communicator chirped. She checked the i.d. of the caller. “Speak of Oyed!” she gulped. “It’s Elmar!”

“Okay, even a Seer would consider that to be spooky!” remarked Denstra as Arsha put Elmar on speaker.

“Go ahead,” she directed.

“Captain, I believe I have a theory on the mist,” reported Elmar. “You know how life began for all species, right?”

“Yes,” replied Arsha. “It’s common knowledge. Sentriam and Benthe wanted life and so literally breathed it into various shapes. That’s what sparked the Great Fracturing and made the Realms what they are.”

“And we all have little particles of their breath,” continued Denstra. “They contained it all for fear of abuse.”

“What if they managed to miss a bit?” asked Elmar. “You see, the mist seems to be constructed of those same breath particles.”

“Elmar, are you saying...?” quizzed Arsha.

“The pink mist is the Breath of Life?!” yelped Denstra.

“It’s just a theory, but I believe so,” replied Elmar. “As it mainly affects machines with their own motive power, I need to test it on such machines.”

“If that IS true,” mused Hunmur, “why can’t we talk to them? Why is the mist just making our machines go haywire?”

“Now that IS an interesting query,” answered Elmar. “I’ll need to study it further.”

“Er, guys!” gulped Latinora as she pointed to the door! The pink mist was seeping into the room!

“Oh no!” gasped Arsha. “Elmar, lock down the ship!” All she heard was static. “Elmar?! Damn! It must already be affected!”

“I hope he got the message,” sighed Denstra.

* * *

Regretfully, it was chaos on the _Endeavor_. Though Elmar ordered a lockdown when he heard the static, the mist had already entered through an exterior hatch that was closed too little, too late. Main Engineering was the first to report a fault. The engine core’s power was fluctuating to unacceptable levels. Marshii’s Sick Bay was faring no better. Thankfully, she had no patients, but she was losing patience with her equipment not working correctly. “Stupid, rust-ridden, spark-showering...!” she griped. “Can’t you work right?!” Her legs then shut down. “Not you too!” shouted Marshii. Bashoon then dashed into Sick Bay, stopping at the door to catch her breath. “Whoa, kid, where’s the fire?” called Marshii.

“Grease burns!” panted Bashoon. “Mom! At bar!”

“Get me onto that gurney!” ordered Marshii as she grabbed her medical kit. Bashoon obeyed, then pushed the gurney to the Barmek’s restaurant. There was a crowd of people gathered around. “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” shouted Marshii. “Give her some air, for Freemal’s sake!” The crowd parted as Marshii let herself drop to the floor near Mrs. Barmek. As Bashoon reported, she had severe burns. “What told you they were grease burns?” Marshii asked Bashoon.

“Dad saw the grease hit her as the ship rocked,” explained Bashoon.

“Yeah, that’s a good indicator,” remarked Marshii. “Is the source dead?”

“Already snuffed out,” replied Mr. Barmek. “We tried to run cool water to stop the burn, but the water’s off!”

“Good thinking on the water,” praised Marshii. “That tells me what I need to do next.” She took out a pair of phials, one with green liquid and one with blue liquid. She mixed the green liquid with the blue one ten to one, then summoned a tiny flame and held it under the phial. “Anyone know a good lighting spell?” she called.

“I’m a Lightning Dragon,” offered a Lieutenant as he raised his hand.

“Even better,” declared Marshii. “I need this mixture continually electrified until it turns ice-blue.”

“Got it,” answered the Lightning Dragon as he took the phial. He electrified his hands and kept up the treatment until it turned the required color. “Done!” he called.

“Gimme!” ordered Marshii. She took the phial and uncorked it as she turned to Mrs. Barmek. “This is gonna sting like the Depths,” she warned as she poured the contents onto her. Mrs. Barmek drew in a breath in pain as the potion stung her briefly. Marshii rubbed it all over the burn sites on the skin and it turned transparent. “All right, give it five to ten minutes,” she directed. “It’ll evaporate on its own once it’s done. Mr. Barmek, Ensign Barmek, good thinking on the first aid before getting me.”

“We all had first aid training before I joined Realmfleet,” replied Bashoon. “I’m just mad I couldn’t follow through on it with the water off.”

“You did what you could,” assured Marshii. She then glared at the crowd. “As for the rest of you, don’t crowd someone who’s hurt! You make it harder for the doctor to give treatment! Clear off and help to fix the ship!” Everyone decided now was NOT a good time to not heed Marshii and moved off to do what they could to fix the _Endeavor_. “Idiots,” muttered Marshii.

“I never understood that kind of mob mentality,” sighed Bashoon.

“You won’t understand it when you’re my age,” replied Marshii. “Now, get me back to Sick Bay.”

* * *

“Can we get a message out to the _Forge_?” Malak asked Shalvey on the bridge. “This mist WILL affect her.”

“I’ve been trying on all frequencies,” sighed Shalvey. “We can’t get a message out. Roozay’s gonna meet the same nasty surprise as us.” Dalengor arrived on the bridge. “Any luck with the flare?” asked Shalvey.

“The Scarlet Stream pirates snuffed it,” replied Dalengor. “They’re playing for keeps. Nazay should have fired off a second flare.” Nazay then slithered in.

“The _Forge_ was just within visual range of my flare,” he reported. “They got the message and are landing away from the city.”

“Thank goodness,” sighed Dalengor. Just then, they all heard groaning.

“That was...behind me,” gulped Malak. Everyone turned to see a woman with silver skin, grey hair in curls, and a grey dress. She was clutching her head in pain.

“Can’t...can’t...” she whimpered.

“Who in the Realms?” asked Shalvey.

“Anyone recognize her?” quizzed Nazay.

“I can’t say as I do,” remarked Malak. “She looks to be in pain.”

“I’ll talk to her,” offered Shalvey. She tried to make her chair move, but it didn’t. “Oh, great,” she muttered. “Er, could one of you...?”

“I got you,” called Malak. He picked up Shalvey bridal style and brought her over to the woman.

“Hello,” she began. “Are you hurt?”

“Poking!” whimpered the woman. “Prodding! Can’t...can’t...think right!”

“Can you tell us your name?” asked Shalvey, fearing this woman was abused rather badly.

“Can’t...think I...!” The woman went back to groaning.

“Curse it all,” sighed Shalvey. “She’s in some sort of pain. Dalengor, help her to Sick Bay.”

* * *

The Senior Staff had returned to the _Endeavor_ and were asked to meet in Sick Bay. “I can’t get an accurate reading on her without my instruments,” muttered Marshii as she used various spells on the woman. “What I’m getting from her is that she’s a newborn.”

“She doesn’t look that young,” mused Arsha.

“I know,” replied Marshii. “Blasted crisis! Blasted Reb! Robbing me of combining magic and tech!”

“And Reb’s not letting us get to the _Forge_ ,” muttered Denstra. “She’s Depths-bent on keeping us here by bombarding the outskirts.”

“Trying to panic Galthar into paying up,” summed up Thangred.

“A classic Rojam maneuver,” replied Denstra.

“You were the Chief Engineer of her old flagship, correct?” asked Shalvey.

“I was,” confirmed Denstra. “The best way to get her to make a mistake first, thus making the venture unprofitable, is to do something completely unexpected. Unfortunately, that requires technology.”

“Something we don’t have at the moment,” grumbled Thangred.

“Well, we’ll just have to find a way to scuttle her without tech,” declared Marshii.

“Everyone, we’re all going to brainstorm ideas,” directed Arsha. “No one’s leaving the ship until we figure something out.”


	10. Chapter 10

The _Forge_ stayed outside of Galthar’s borders. Captain Roozay, an Orc, drummed his fingers on the desk in his Ready Room. He heard his door chime. “Enter,” he rumbled. A male Blaze Elf then came in. “Gayak,” greeted Roozay. “You rarely leave Sick Bay. What’s the occasion?”

“Hentur and I” replied the _Forge_ ’s CMO, “had a foot-based messenger deliver us some findings and theories from the _Endeavor_. Apparently, the mist is believed to be the Breath of Life.”

“That’s absurd,” scoffed Roozay.

“I said the same thing,” remarked Gayak, “but there ARE Breath particles in the mist.”

“...Okay, so, maybe NOT so absurd,” mused Roozay. “Why a messenger on foot?”

“Because the mist is making the _Endeavor_ go haywire too,” replied Gayak.

“That explains the flare yesterday,” sighed Roozay. “If it can affect a _Dauntless_ -class ship, a small _Observer_ -class science vessel ain’t gonna be unscathed. Anything else?”

“That’s all, Sir,” answered Gayak.

“All right then, see if you and Hentur can find a solution,” directed Roozay. Gayak saluted and left the Ready Room. After a minute, Roozay returned to the bridge, moving towards his Lamia Communications Officer. “Mr. Trootar,” he called, “contact Realmfleet and tell them of the situation. Tell them the _Endeavor_ is affected by the mist and Galthar needs aid in the form of food and water.”

“Message sent,” reported Trootar. “They’ve acknowledged and are awaiting recommendations.”

“Tell them that all technology based aid will not be possible,” directed Roozay. “Refrigeration must be done via cooling spells and all food needs to be cooked over open fires. All ships must land at least two taks from Galthar’s borders to prevent the mist from affecting them.”

“They’ve acknowledged and are ready to deploy a relief fleet,” answered Trootar.

“Excellent,” praised Roozay. “I’ll be outside the ship. We’ll coordinate the aid from here.”

* * *

Over on the _Endeavor_ , studies on the mist were going slow with all machinery needing constant repairs. Every time someone started something up, it sparked. The mystery woman, meanwhile, was still under surveillance. She was still moaning in pain, speaking in broken speech about something prodding and poking her constantly, never giving a clear answer. Marshii tried various spells to heal her, but it was no good. Whatever malady the mystery woman was afflicted with, magic alone couldn’t cure it. Marshii felt a tear come down her face. “I don’t need to be Thengo,” she muttered to herself, “to know where that tear came from. Having no computers or machinery to help is just frustrating!”

“Glad to see you can pinpoint the problem,” called Thengo’s voice. She had entered Sick Bay while Marshii was griping to herself. “Unfortunately, our society became so dependent on technology.”

“So much so,” guessed Marshii, “that we feel lost without it. Everyone’s feeling as I do.”

“Bingo,” confirmed Thengo. “Anything on our mystery patient?”

“Not a thing,” grumbled Marshii. “It would help if my legs were working so I can closely examine her, but I had to take them offline because of all this!”

“...What if you turned them back on?” asked Thengo.

“Are you out of your pink-haired mind?!” snapped Marshii. “They might charge off on their own!”

“Maybe they just needed a reset,” theorized Thengo.

“Okay, fine, I’ll try it,” muttered Marshii as she slid herself into the harness between her legs. She switched them on and tested walking forward. They responded perfectly, like they were newly built. “What in...?” quizzed Marshii.

“What do you know?” chuckled Thengo. “They DID need a reboot.”

“...A reboot,” mused Marshii. “...Wait...what if...”

“You mean...?” realized Thengo.

“Shut down the ship!” the two ladies called together.

“Go get Arsha, bring her to Thangred,” directed Marshii, “and tell them to shut the ship down! I still have a patient to tend to!”

“On it!” confirmed Thengo as she scurried out. Marshii knelt down and tried to reassure the woman.

“You hear that?” she asked. “We’ll fix you up soon.”

* * *

Thengo dashed through the corridors, asking various repair teams where Arsha was. So far, they had no idea. She continued running down the halls when she almost collided with Bashoon! “Ma’am, whoa!” she called. “Who’s dead?!”

“Ensign, have you seen the Captain?!” asked Thengo.

“She’s talking to Mom and Dad over at the bar,” explained Bashoon. “Why?”

“Marshii and I may have a solution!” replied Thengo. “Thank you!” She sprinted off and entered the Barmek’s bar, finding Arsha still talking with Mr. and Mrs. Barmek.

“We’ll do what we can to fix this, I promise you,” she assured the Barmeks. “I will NOT let your supplies spoil.”

“Captain!” called Thengo. “Thank goodness you’re here! Do you know where Thangred is?!”

“Still in Main Engineering,” replied Arsha, “trying to figure out what’s wrong with the ship.”

“Come with me!” directed Thengo as she grabbed Arsha’s hand.

“HEY!” yelped Arsha. She was dragged along at top speed all the way to Main Engineering. Thengo skidded to a stop when she found Thangred. “Counselor, what’s going on?!” asked Arsha.

“Thangred, Arsha, we need to shut the ship down!” called Thengo.

“Shut it down?!” yelped Thangred. “Are you out of your mind?! What for?!”

“Marshii tried it with her legs and they work perfectly!” explained Thengo. “A total shut-down purged the mist’s effects from her legs, it might do the same to the ship!”

“Her legs are a little more simpler than a skyship,” reminded Arsha.

“If it works for a skyship,” argued Thengo, “it could work for Galthar! The city would be able to defend itself against Reb Rojam!”

“Captain, it would take the rest of the day to bring it back online!” protested Thangred. Arsha pondered for a few seconds before she made her decision.

“Shut the _Endeavor_ down,” she ordered.

“...Aye, Ma’am,” sighed Thangred. He turned up to Melandra. “Hey! Gloss-legs! We’re shutting the ship down! Get your key!”

“Shutting the ship down?!” yelped Melandra as he dropped down. “But...!”

“Captain’s orders!” answered Thangred.

“All right, I’m coming,” groaned Melandra as he pulled out a key. Thangred did the same and opened an access panel. There were two buttons and a keyhole beneath each button.

“I’ll turn my key first and count from ten,” directed Thangred. “When I say ‘five’, you turn your key, then wait until I say ‘Mark’ before we both press the buttons. Got it?”

“Understood,” confirmed Melandra. Thangred then turned his key.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,” At Thangred’s count, Melandra turned his key, “four, three, two, one, MARK!” Both Engineers pressed the buttons and everything on the ship shut down, even the engine core. “Now what?” asked Thangred. Just then, everything went back online! “No, not yet!” wailed Thangred as he dashed towards a computer console, fearing an engine core breach. He checked the systems and became puzzled. “That’s funny,” he muttered. “That should have been an improper restart.”

“How long should it have been before power came back on?” asked Arsha.

“About five hours,” answered Thangred. “According to the systems, it looks like the ship restarted itself. Try the intercom, see if any area’s working right.” Arsha activated the intercom.

“Arsha to Marshii,” she called.

“Marshii here,” replied Marshii’s voice. “A bit too early to bring it back online, wouldn’t you say?”

“Doctor, the ship fired itself back up,” explained Arsha.

“...Pull the other one!” remarked Marshii.

“That’s what Thangred got down here!” insisted Arsha.

“Well, in any case, everything’s working up here and...by the Ones!” breathed Marshii. “Captain, get up here now!” The call ended and Arsha teleported herself to Sick Bay.

“What’s going on?” asked Arsha. Marshii pointed to the mystery woman to see that writing was appearing on the outer skirt of her dress. It was written with light, thus neither of them could make out what it was saying. The light died down and Arsha read off the letters and numbers. “CRS-2784, _Endeavor_ ,” she read aloud. “Weird. How could that happen?” The woman opened her eyes, then shook her head as a sign of clearing dizziness. The woman then looked around Sick Bay and smiled.

“Never thought I’d see Sick Bay,” she sighed happily. She then saw Marshii and Arsha. “Hello!” she called.

“Er, hello,” stammered Arsha. “Are you...?”

“Still in pain?” finished the woman. “Nope, not this time. All that poking and prodding in my corridors gave me a massive headache! ...Hey, I have a head now!”

“...Did you...not always have one?” asked Marshii, a little concerned the woman was not mentally well.

“No, not in the usual sense, Dr. Borontho,” replied the woman. Marshii goggled at the woman.

“Marshii, she knows you,” remarked Arsha.

“Well, I can’t remember where I’ve seen her!” yelped Marshii.

“Let me help out a bit,” offered the woman. “During your training, you dropped a tiny bit of acid, right there on the floor.” The woman pointed to a spot near a bed. “You were so scared of Dr. Halterras finding out you messed up his nice, clean floor, so you tried to hide the damage with a towel. When he demanded you pick it up, you hesitated to do so, but relented and revealed the acid spill to him. He was mad!”

“...I never told anyone this!” yelped Marshii. She immediately scanned the woman’s brain waves and noticed something. She goggled as she put two and two together. “This woman’s head,” she explained, “is linked to the ship’s computer core! Her body has new Breath particles and sprouted from the metal of the ship! Captain, this woman...we’re inside her right now!” Arsha’s eyes became as big as dinner plates as she ran her gaze up and down the woman.

“...You’re the _Endeavor_?!” she asked. The woman nodded. “...My ship?!”

“My captain!” giggled the woman, the living consciousness of the _Endeavor_.

“Then this IS a new era for talking machines!” cheered Marshii. “I can’t believe this! I...oh, crap, now I’ve got to work with Thangred when giving someone a physical.”

“A necessary sacrifice,” assured Arsha as she grinned. “ _Endeavor_ , Realmfleet’s gonna flip when they see you!”

“Call me Endea, please,” directed the woman.

“Well then, welcome, Endea!” greeted Arsha. She then activated the intercom. “All Senior Staff to the Ready Room!” she cheered. “We have a new addition to the crew!”


	11. Chapter 11

The Senior Staff was introduced to Endea in short order, as was the Senior Staff of the _Forge_. Thanks to the ship’s reboot, communications between the _Endeavor_ and the _Forge_ were reestablished. Roozay was surprised to see the _Endeavor_ talking to him. “I...er...well...this is a whole new can of worms,” he muttered.

“How so?” asked Endea.

“Madam, there WILL be people that say machines need no rights,” explained Roozay.

“Oh, crap,” mumbled Arsha as she realized the future legal battle for the rights of sentient machines. “The other side’s going to say that you’re just a machine, built only for one purpose. Having your own ideas will only get in the way of your purpose.”

“Which I find to be a load of nonsense!” snapped Denstra. “Our whole purpose is to engage with new forms of life and protect them! Well, there’s a new form of life right there!”

“Maybe more, if Bashoon tells the Queens,” mused Elmar.

“So the crisis should be resolving soon?” asked Roozay.

“Hopefully,” replied Arsha. “All the same, can the relief fleet get here still? Reb’s fleet is still keeping people out.”

“We would be happy to assist,” promised Roozay. “Arsha, you and I should draft a battle plan once Galthar is back up and running.”

“Agreed,” answered Arsha.

* * *

“Halt repairs?!” yelped Hunmur once she and Hindra got the message. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Your Majesty, I understand this is a peculiar situation,” gulped Bashoon, “but, if I could explain...!”

“What’s to explain?!” asked Hunmur. “You want us to order the ones trying to fix this crisis to stop?!”

“It worked with us,” assured Bashoon. “On top of that, it brought our ship to life!”

“And the potential legal battle is one of the reasons why I’m so unwilling to follow through with your suggestion!” snapped Hunmur.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Hindra. Hunmur sighed.

“I was the defense when the Chimeras were demanding the same rights as us,” she explained. “That battle took a thousand years before the courts reached their decision.”

“And you think it’ll take as long concerning living machines?” realized Bashoon.

“Exactly!” replied Hunmur. “What if the courts say ‘no’?”

“With respect,” remarked Hindra, “if we don’t try their suggestion, Galthar may not live to see that battle or its outcome. Being a tech capital, our voice will have some weight to whatever our decision is.” Hunmur pondered a bit, then decided.

“All right, we’ll do it,” she declared.

“You will?” asked Bashoon.

“Hindra’s right,” continued Hunmur. “We can’t advocate for sentient machine rights if our kingdom’s not showing off how such rights improve the Realms. Hindra, let’s draft an executive order for all repairs to cease, then sign it.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Bashoon praised Hunmur. “And thank you, Queen Hindra.”

“Don’t thank me,” replied Hindra, “I didn’t think that was going to work!”

“...Could have waited until I left the castle to say that,” muttered Bashoon.

* * *

“Still no response from Galthar,” reported Melgem aboard the Scarlet Stream pirates’ flagship, the _Black Money_.

“This is MOST unlike Hindra and Hunmur,” mused Reb. “What could POSSIBLY delay them? They care about their people, yes?”

“They should,” muttered Yulduk. “Something’s not right.” A man in black pirate clothing then came in. The coat had “SSPS-1794 _Black Money_ ” on the back.

“Ah, Blackon, my DEAR ship,” greeted Reb.

“Admiral,” replied the man, Blackon, the living consciousness of Reb’s flagship.

“What news from the fleet?” asked Melgem.

“The _Headstrong_ and _Opulence_ ,” answered Blackon, “reported a fleet of Realmfleet ships nearing our position. They fired warning shots and the enemy is holding position.”

“Excellent,” praised Reb. “Oh, I DO hope Hindra and Hunmur see sense. We simply NEED their riches to...” a sound from the tactical console interrupted her. Blackon checked and his eyes widened.

“I don’t believe it,” he muttered. He projected what was going on in Galthar on the main screen.

“Are they...stopping repairs?” quizzed Melgem.

“More than that!” replied Blackon. “They’re shutting down ALL machines!”

“...They know!” realized Reb. “They KNOW somehow!”

“But...how?!” yelped Melgem.

“Admiral!” called Blackon as he pointed to the screen as it focused on the trains of Galthar. The fronts of the engines budded, then the buds grew until they each formed a humanoid upper torso and distinct faces and clothing. They now looked like humanoid life-forms sprouting out of the fronts of train engines. Another blip on the tactical console grabbed Blackon’s attention. He checked it. “The _Endeavor_ ’s hailing us!” he reported.

“Arsha!” snarled Reb. “I should have KILLED her when I saw her in the vaults!”

“What can we do?!” yelped Yulduk. “With the city’s movement-capable machines rising, we’ll never have Galthar as a permanent tribute site!”

“Open a channel to the _Endeavor_!” ordered Reb. “I will speak with Arsha MYSELF!” Arsha appeared on the screen with Endea. “I know you had your DESPICABLE hands in this, Royana!” shouted Reb.

“MY despicable hands?” scoffed Arsha. “Pot, meet kettle! You terrorized innocent people just to make a quick profit! The only good thing that came out of this is the fact that all machines with motive power can talk to us now, such as Endea here.”

“So, you figured out what the mist is,” sighed Melgem. “Oh well, we still have the advantage. We used the Breath of Life about a year ago and our ships are more trained than yours!”

“I can still fight with the best of them!” argued Endea. “Now, scram!”

“I don’t take ORDERS, I take TREASURE!” snapped Reb. She ended communications and activated a fleetwide broadcast. “All ships, battle stations!”

* * *

“They’re coming at us in an attack formation!” warned Malak.

“Time to put you through your paces,” Arsha declared to Endea. She activated the intercom. “All hands to battle stations!” The ship rose to meet the pirate fleet as the relief fleet came up from behind the pirates and fired! Malak received more attack suggestions on his console and looked at Endea.

“Yeah, they’re my ideas on top of the main computer suggestions!” confirmed Endea.

“Well, I like your third option!” called Malak.

“Use it at your discretion!” directed Arsha. Malak fed the flight pattern to the helm and Nazay moved the ship in said pattern, weaving above the pirates while Malak fired torpedoes at their topsides.

“The pirates are in disarray!” cheered Malak.

“See?” asked Endea. “It’s all in the unexpected...” she trailed off when she saw what was on the screen. The ship was going in between a pair of pirate ships! “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” yelped Endea. “NAZAY, DON’T FLY ME BETWEEN THEM!”

“FLY YOU BETWEEN THEM, ARE YOU CRAZY?!” replied Nazay, missing a part of Endea’s protest. He flew the ship right between them! Endea squeaked in horror, then her eyes pupils and sclera vanished. The helm’s controls then moved themselves against Nazay’s directions!

“I TOLD YOU TO GO AROUND THEM!” called Endea.

“YOU SAID TO FLY YOU BETWEEN THEM!” snapped Nazay as he realized who had the controls.

“I SAID _DON’T_ FLY ME BETWEEN THEM!” answered Endea. It was too late now. As the _Endeavor_ flew between the ships, the cannons on either side fired just a little behind them and the shots ripped into the other ships. The relief fleet continued attacking from the rear.

* * *

“This is lunacy!” groaned Melgem. Blackon cried out in pain.

“My shields are down!” he called. “Fires on decks 2, 3, and 5!”

“Order our repair crews to put out the fires, then activate our PERSONAL Realmgate,” ordered Reb. “We’ve sustained enough damage to make this job no longer PROFITABLE.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” shouted Yulduk. “This is our chance to finally be at the top of the tech game! Realmfleet will have no choice but to accept our ways!”

“We’ve lost too many ships,” replied Reb. “The amount of money needed for repairs will NOT be covered with Galthar brought to its knees. We’re leaving.”

“I am the true King of Galthar,” snarled Yulduk, “and I order you to...!” He didn’t get far as Reb buried a knife into his head.

“NEVER give me an order!” she hissed at Yulduk’s corpse. “Blackon, sweetie, get this HORRENDOUS thing off and fire up the personal Realmgate.”

“At once,” replied Blackon. Yulduk’s body was enveloped in light and vanished without a trace.

* * *

“Captain!” called Malak.

“I see them!” cheered Arsha as the pirates went into retreat. “Well done, all of you! Even you, Endea!”

“I just do the best I can,” replied Endea.

“Roozay’s hailing us!” called Shalvey.

“Open a channel!” directed Arsha. Roozay appeared on screen.

“I must say,” he chuckled, “I didn’t expect this kind of welcome from Galthar. Now, about that technological aid...”

“Galthar should be in a position to accept all kinds of aid,” replied Arsha. “We’ll meet with the Queens and discuss how to divide up the resources so Galthar can get back on its feet.”

“Then I’ll meet you at the castle,” declared Roozay. “Roozay out.” The call ended.

“Nazay, let’s get back to the ground,” directed Arsha.

“Couldn’t agree more, Captain,” chuckled Nazay as he moved the ship to the landing site.


	12. Chapter 12

Galthar was back on its feet after a few days. With motive-capable machines now talking and helping the citizens out, the damage during the crisis was fixed very quickly. While they may be considered newborns, the machines were actually adults, most likely because of how they were built long before they gained their new abilities. These new life-forms were classified as Arties and were given the further classification of Mechanica, living machines. “Are you sure you still want a crew?” Arsha asked Endea. “I mean, you can fly yourself.”

“I can,” replied Endea, “but I’d feel safer with a crew. I mean, at least Thangred can learn of any potential problems at a faster rate now that I can tell him what’s wrong.”

“True,” mused Arsha. She then turned to Hindra and Hunmur. “I understand Glathar’s going to be a haven in the event of Mechanicas being denied their rights?”

“It shall,” declared Hunmur. “They have as much right to enjoy the same freedoms as we do. I see no reason to impede them.”

“Whatever Anti-Mechanica Rights movement comes up will hate that a tech capital,” chuckled Endea, “is vouching for us.”

“Yeah, well, they can kiss my butt,” remarked Hunmur.

“I appreciate all that you’re doing, Your Majesty,” thanked Arsha.

“And we appreciate all that you did for us,” returned Hindra.

“May your future be blessed with knowledge and wisdom,” bid Hunmur.

“May your lives be long and happy,” answered Arsha in the correct manner. She and Endea returned to the _Endeavor_ and made their way to the bridge. They noticed an extra chair set up between the Captain’s chair and the First Officer’s seat. It was a table chair and both Endea and Arsha were confused about its presence. Denstra cleared her throat.

“I tried to find a more comfortable seat,” she explained, “but all my family and I had was this, a spare seat from the dining area in our quarters.”

“It will serve,” assured Endea as she sat in it.

“Your next overhaul will need to include a seat for you,” mused Arsha as she and Denstra sat in their own seats.

“If Realmfleet grants it,” remarked Denstra.

“What do you mean?” asked Arsha.

“I’ve checked with Realmfleet and the overhaul logs,” replied Denstra. “The _Endeavor_ ’s reached its maximum of 25 overhauls. Any more overhauls will be deemed unnecessary and the ship will be retired from service.”

“But that usually means...” gulped Arsha.

“Scrapping!” finished Endea as she feared for her new life.

“Or being put up on static display,” interjected Nazay.

“Realmfleet’s already GOT a _Dauntless_ -class vessel as a museum piece,” reminded Malak. “Only one museum piece per class.”

“That was before our ship started talking to us,” declared Arsha. “It’ll change when she gets the same rights as us.”

“IF I get the same rights as you,” sighed Endea.

“WHEN,” insisted Arsha. “You WILL see the dawn of sentient machine rights.”

“...Thank you,” bid Endea.

“We’ve got allies,” Arsha called to the bridge crew as she stood up and used the entire bridge as her stage. “We all took care of the _Endeavor_ when she was just a machine and I have every confidence we’ll continue to do so now that she’s holding conversations with us. As far as I’m concerned, Endea’s as much of a crewmember as us, she’s a part of this family! I won’t turn my back on her, I refuse to. While we continue with our missions, we continue fighting to make sure her rights are brought to reality. I expect all of you to protect her with your life as I’m sure she will for us. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” confirmed the bridge crew.

“Good to hear,” answered Arsha. She then sat back in her chair. “Nazay, I believe we’ve got a mission in the Greltharg Merfolk Kingdom.”

“Course laid in,” reported Nazay. “We’re cleared for departure.”

“Nice and easy,” directed Arsha. The _Endeavor_ rose from the landing pad and made its way to a Realmgate.

* * *

Yulduk’s corpse was far from Galthar’s northern border. It was already in rigor mortis and bowel evacuation. As it laid there, putrefying, the vortex of a Realmgate opened. It was smaller in scale, only large enough to accommodate a Troll, and released Dr. Borg, Tormo, and Jansha. It closed behind them as Dr. Borg ran an analysis on the body. “Only five hours dead,” she reported. “Perfect.”

“Look, are you sure you mastered the spells and tech?” asked Tormo. “We’ve only got as far as the simulations.”

“Now is the perfect opportunity to try a real-world test,” answered Dr. Borg as she set a pentagon of small devices around the body. She then keyed in a command on the display screen on her arm and the devices fired lasers at each other to form a pentagram. “Shanwey yat talyen falunar,” she chanted. “Shanwey yat talyen falunar. Shanwey yat talyen falunar. Shanwey yat talyen falunar. Shanwey yat talyen falunar.” This went on and on as she poured her magic into the corpse. Dark energies then penetrated the body and it convulsed violently. This continued until the corpse opened its eyes and screamed! The eyes were glowing blue as the skin turned ashen and blue lines of light snaked their way across various parts of the skin. “Shanwey yat talyen falunar! Shanwey yat talyen falunar! Shanwey yat talyen falunar! TEL!” The chanting stopped, as did the corpse’s screaming. It blinked and picked itself up as the pentagram was switched off.

“Ugh! My head!” groaned the corpse as it massaged its head.

“And you are?” asked Dr. Borg. The corpse thought for a moment before remembering who it was.

“Yulduk,” answered the body. “I was the Collector for Galthar. I was sick of Hindra and Hunmur’s reliance on Realmfleet. We’re the richest kingdom in the Mid-realm! We ALL can afford to pay! But, no, they likened my collection methods to rape and thus scuttled my arrangement with...” He then remembered. “Reb Rojam, she...no...NO!” Yulduk then screamed in rage. “She DARED stab me in the back! Pirates are under my beck and...wait, she LITERALLY stabbed me. In my head if I recall.” He felt around his head and found the stab wound. “How am I...did you bring me back?”

“I did,” confirmed Dr. Borg. “I didn’t want a zombie, so I found old tomes relating to creating undead like you.”

“But...but...if I am what I think I am,” muttered Yulduk, “then you should be in pain from the damage to your soul.”

“That’s where the pentagram generators come in,” explained Dr. Borg. “They constantly replenish my soul as I perform the ritual. However, I only needed to use it once. You can easily make more of your kind now with no damage to your returned soul. Tell me, do you seek vengeance against Galthar for not recognizing you for what you are?”

“...On Galthar AND the Scarlet Stream pirates!” declared Yulduk.

“Join me and I can grant you vengeance!” promised Dr. Borg.

“Well, there’s nothing for me here,” mused Yulduk. “Why not? I accept!”

“Welcome to the Realm Trinity Empire, Yulduk, the first of my Revenant army!” declared Dr. Borg.

“Before we go,” answered Yulduk, “I have something that may interest you.”

“Oh?” asked Dr. Borg. Yulduk produced a phial from his robes. In it was the pink mist.

“Scientists from both the pirates and Galthar have confirmed this to be the Breath of Life,” he explained. “Let it touch your machines, shut them down, let them start themselves back up, and you will have talking vehicles, ready to obey you.”

“Now this IS a promising start to our partnership,” praised Dr. Borg as she accepted the phial. “Come, let us go back to base. We’ll need more soldiers.”

“I’ll find more freshly dead corpses to make Revenants,” promised Yulduk.

“Excellent,” proclaimed Dr. Borg as she opened the smaller Realmgate. “Let’s go.” All four then entered the Realmgate, letting it shut itself behind them.

* * *

Arsha and Endea made their way to the All-Ones Shrine on the ship. They needed to talk to Sentriam or Benthe about how they found the Breath of Life. The Priest let them in and the two knelt at the altar. Arsha led the prayer. “Sentriam, Benthe,” she began “we invoke your names to speak with you directly. We have news that may trouble you as it does us. Please, hear us and speak to us.” The candles’ flames turned pink as pink mist covered the area. The mist then formed two upper torsos within the pews. One was masculine, the other was feminine. More details appeared to reveal Lady Sentriam and Lord Benthe, two of the Pink Divine Ones of Love.

“This is most unusual for you, Your Highness,” rumbled Benthe softly. “You don’t call on any of us that often.”

“What could concern us as well as you?” asked Sentriam.

“It concerns people like me,” explained Endea.

“Who are you, my child?” asked Sentriam.

“Lady Sentriam, Lord Benthe, I am Endea, the living extension of the _Endeavor_ ,” introduced Endea. Sentriam and Benthe’s eyes went wide.

“She came to life by accident,” explained Arsha. “This was interfering with her systems.” She produced a phial of the Breath and gave it to the two Divine Ones. Sentriam examined it closely.

“How is this...?” she spluttered. “Benthe, this is the Breath!”

“Bu...but how?!” gulped Benthe. “We sealed it all away after the Great Fracturing!”

“My first notice of the stuff,” replied Arsha, “was when I was Reb Rojam’s prisoner.”

“Whether she’s found it by accident or on purpose,” continued Endea, “is a mystery.”

“In any event, the two of us need to check the seal and see how much escaped,” declared Sentriam. “Thank you both for bringing this to our attention.”

“Endea,” called Benthe, “tell me, have you been mistreated since coming to life?”

“Not yet, but I anticipate it,” sighed Endea. “I mean, let’s not even start with the money-people.”

“It’s always them that argue against progress,” muttered Benthe. “Still, just know that you DO have Divine Ones rooting for you, wanting to help you in any way we can.”

“I’ll try and do things with the means I have before asking for Divine Help,” replied Endea.

“That is all we ask in return,” assured Sentriam. “Just try your best.”

“I will, My Lady,” promised Endea as she bowed her head. She was then embraced by the two before the mist vanished and they departed.

“Well, that’s promising,” mused Arsha. “Your brand of life is well on its way to being adopted into their care.”

“I hope so,” muttered Endea. They got up and left the Shrine so they could return to the bridge.


	13. Chapter 13

After Endea’s birth, many of Arsha’s missions were centered in the Under-realm. There wasn’t much talk of Endea to Arsha’s knowledge, but Arsha was waiting for it. Right now, her ship was ordered to the Morgonthor Trench, Marshii’s home, to await a famous defense attorney. Arsha was wondering about the particulars of why as the mission was on a need-to-know basis and would be revealed once the attorney was picked up. She heard it would take a few days until the attorney arrived, so she granted shore leave and visitation rights to crewmember families. Marshii had opened a window and flooded her quarters for her family to visit. She got the water to her preferred temperature and sighed happily as the warmth flooded her body. She heard a knock on the exterior of her windows and turned to see her wives and husbands, children, and grandchildren. She opened all of the windows and they swam into the room. She was instantly buried in her grandchildren’s hugging. “Give Grandma Marshii some air!” laughed one of her daughters, Tayasi. The grandchildren obeyed and released Marshii.

“Tolno, look at you!” cheered Marshii as she held one of her grandsons above her. “You’ve gotten so big!”

“I’m a big boy now!” replied Tolno.

“Yes, you are!” agreed Marshii.

“Grandma Marshii,” asked one of her granddaughters, Yella, “is it true that you’re really a grumpy old woman? That’s what my best friend says her daddy told her.”

“Yella!” admonished the girl’s father, Brensha.

“...Do you happen to know if your best friend’s parents work in Realmfleet?” asked Marshii.

“She said her daddy’s a Lootenant here,” replied the girl, Yella. “Do you know Yoltem?”

“Lieutenant Yoltem,” growled Marshii. “Yeah, I know him. Why don’t you tell your best friend, when you next see her, that, if she and her family are tired of hearing about me, they can come to Sick Bay for a visit. I can make it so that they won’t see me again. Won’t you do that for Grandma Marshii?”

“Okay!” promised Yella.

“That’s a good girl, Yella,” praised Marshii. “Now, let’s see if Grandma has some candy for all these wonderful children.” The grandchildren wiggled in anticipation at the promise of candy.

“...That’s not the woman I grew up with!” yelped another of her sons, Tuyabti.

“Oh, here we go,” grumbled another of her daughters, Wollio.

“Look! Out the window!” called one of her husbands, Rootig. “That was Joyalee!”

“...Someone’s gone senile,” muttered her other husband, Gorkon.

“You can’t mistake hair like that!” argued Rootig.

“Rootig, Joyalee and her wife, Kalo, live in the Chromanian Sea,” reminded Marshii. “You know, a Merfolk kingdom in the Over-realm?”

“He’s right! Look!” directed Yella. Everyone gathered at the windows and saw a Mermaid with a green tail and top and long, curly, pink hair.

“...Maybe we’ve ALL gone senile!” gulped Gorkon.

“Take it from a doctor, we ain’t there yet!” replied Marshii.

“What’s she doing here?” asked one of her wives, Bemfin.

“Well, we’re expecting a defense attorney,” answered Marshii, “but she’s a writing and literature teacher. Is Kalo...no, Kalo’s a Sea Witch, the typical job for a Cecaelia.”

“I don’t know,” remarked another of her wives, Fulldio, “Kalo DID study some law.”

“Enough for her to be an attorney?” asked Marshii.

* * *

A special water chair, similar to Shalvey’s, was prepared as Arsha received word that the attorney had a Mermaid spouse. The _Endeavor_ ’s landing ramp opened and Joyalee swam up first, followed by a Cecaelia woman with blue octopus legs, curly, lavender hair, a flower adorning the right of her hair, and a red seashell top. “Kalodina Avonamei,” greeted Arsha, “I must admit I’m surprised YOU’RE the defense attorney I’m picking up.”

“It’s Kalo, please, Your Highness” replied the Cecaelia. “To explain why I’m the attorney, I decided to pursue another degree. Now, not only am I a Sea Witch, I’m a lawyer. You’re only dropping me off after all this is over.”

“All this?” asked Arsha as Joyalee took the water chair.

“Why don’t we retire to a conference room?” suggested Kalo. She then noticed Joyalee bouncing excitedly in her chair. “Joy, sweetheart, you keep moving like that,” chuckled Kalo, “you’re gonna go sideways through time.”

“I’m on a Realmfleet ship!” cheered Joyalee. “I’ve always wanted to be on one that wasn’t a wreck! I mean, no offense to our home, but actually being on a working Realmfleet ship...!”

“It’s exciting,” replied Arsha. “Believe me, I felt the same when I...”

“CALL ME THAT AGAIN, I DARE YOU!” shouted Endea’s voice.

“YOU! ARE! A! TIN! CAN!” answered another. Then there were cheers, jeers, and sounds of hitting!

“And it begins!” growled Arsha as she transferred her hairpiece to her waist and dashed down the hall. She found a crowd of people surrounding Endea as she and a Stone Elf crewman, Transhell were beating the snot out of each other! Arsha then got between them.

“Captain, out of my way!” snarled Transhell.

“I’m sorry, I thought _I_ give the orders around here!” growled Arsha. “What in the Depths is all this about?!”

“Captain, that tin can has no right to call itself our equal!” boomed Transhell. “We built it; it’s made to serve us!”

“I cannot BEGIN to describe my disgust at you, Lieutenant Transhell!” snarled Arsha.

“What?!” protested Transhell.

“Our purpose,” continued Arsha, “is to protect ALL manner of life! That includes living machines!”

“Why should we protect something so unnatural?!” argued Transhell. “It’s made for one purpose, transporting us to our destination!”

“SHE has all manner of right to go above what SHE was built for!” countered Arsha.

“Why are you giving IT a gender?!” shouted Transhell.

“Because SHE chose to be addressed as such!” answered Arsha. “I’ve heard enough from you! You’re going to be working in waste extraction until you see sense!”

“Arsha!” argued Transhell.

“That’s ‘Captain’ to you!” snarled Arsha. “Waste extraction! NOW!” Transhell glared at Arsha, then shoved his way through the crowd to waste extraction.

“Appropriate for a piece of garbage like him,” muttered Endea.’

“You’re not off my list, Endea!” snapped Arsha.

“Pardon?!” yelped Endea.

“What possessed you to participate in a fight?!” demanded Arsha.

“Captain, I’m not going to let his insults go without consequences!” argued Endea.

“There are better ways to address this!” snapped Arsha. “You acting like a child on the playground is NOT the right way! I thought you were more mature than that! You’re reporting to Sick Bay to help Marshii with her duties!”

“Captain!” protested Endea.

“Another word,” warned Arsha, “and you’ll be joining Transhell in waste extraction!”

“...Aye, Ma’am,” grumbled Endea as she moved off to Sick Bay.

“Now, as for the rest of you,” growled Arsha as she addressed the crowd, “did it not occur to you that fights are NOT tolerated in Realmfleet?! You lot signed up to keep the peace, not watch two people shatter it to pieces and do nothing! I am ashamed of you all! Since you were the ones who stood by and did nothing to stop the fight, your shore leave is cancelled! Is that clear?!”

“Aye, Captain,” replied the crowd, collectively deciding not to argue.

“Then get to work, all of you,” ordered Arsha. “Dismissed!” The crowd dispersed, leaving Arsha, Joyalee, and Kalo alone in the corridor. Arsha took deep, slow breaths to calm down. “Kalo, Joyalee, I STRONGLY apologize for what happened,” bid Arsha. “I assure you; this kind of behavior is NOT typical aboard the _Endeavor_.”

“No, but I’m seeing it in the Over-realm,” replied Kalo.

“What do you mean?” asked Arsha as she returned her hairpiece to its usual place in her hair.

“Anti-Mechanica bigotry has begun to crop up everywhere,” explained Joyalee. “Riots are starting to begin over sentient machines having the same rights as us, anti-Mechanica graffiti is popping up on walls everywhere, the Crimson Diamonds are using this to fuel their illegal business, those are only a few examples of having no clearly defined laws protecting Mechanicas.”

“That’s why I’m here,” continued Kalo. “The trial to determine the fate of Mechanica Rights is in two days and I’m the defense attorney for it.”

“Then, once she has free time,” replied Arsha, “we need to talk to Endea.”

“Very well,” agreed Kalo.

* * *

“Of all the dumb things you could have done against a racist jackass,” admonished Marshii once Endea got to work, “that was the dumbest!”

“How else can you get someone like him to see sense?!” argued Endea.

“By ignoring his words!” answered Marshii. “If his words made you fight, you gave him ammunition to use against you!”

“What are you talking about?” quizzed Endea.

“He was LOOKING for a fight!” explained Marshii. “He wanted ‘proof’ that you Mechanicas can only work if you’re controlled. He’s going to use the fight as fodder for his beliefs.”

“...I played into his hands,” realized Endea.

“Bingo!” confirmed Marshii.

“But what other ways ARE there to get them to see sense?” asked Endea.

“I know it’s a little late, but let him alone,” suggested Marshii. “It’s going to take longer now, but he’ll give up using you as a target.”

“...I hope so,” sighed Endea as she sorted the potions.


	14. Chapter 14

After she was deemed calm enough by Marshii, Endea was told to report to the Conference Room. She made her way there and entered to see Arsha and Kalo talking. She cleared her throat, attracting their attention. “Got a more level head?” asked Arsha.

“Aye, Captain,” replied Endea.

“Then come join us,” directed Arsha. Endea sat down. “Kalo, this is Endea, the living extension of the _Endeavor_. Endea, this is Kalo Avonamei, the defense lawyer arguing for Mechanica rights.”

“So the trial is soon?” asked Endea.

“In two days,” confirmed Kalo. “Right now, the debate is still ongoing. The trial will determine whether or not you get treated better than a few hours ago.”

“We need your testimony,” continued Arsha, “of your work over these three months.”

“Somehow, I think the opponent’s going to use my fight against me,” muttered Endea.

“I think we can come up with defenses for that,” replied Kalo. “Now, let’s start planning.”

* * *

The trial was held in the Morgonthor Trench’s Great Amphitheater. While the _Endeavor_ stayed outside, Endea stepped inside and noticed how many people were attending to watch the trial. The prosecutor was a male, yellow-skinned Fairy named Thentra. His wings were oddly still as he observed the crowd with great scrutiny. Because the prosecutor was an air-breather that had a vital piece of biology that would be affected underwater, the main stage of the amphitheater was surrounded by an air bubble. Kalo took her position at the defense’s seat and observed Thentra. Just then, a Siren bailiff glided into the bubble in a water chair as an old Cecaelia man took his place at the judge’s seat. “All rise for the honorable Judge Uluntan!” called the bailiff. Everyone rose.

“Be seated,” directed the judge, Uluntan. Everyone sat down as he banged his gavel. “Court is now in session for the trial of Mechanica rights. Defending said rights is Mrs. Kalodina Avonamei of the Over-realm’s Chromanian Sea Merfolk Kingdom. Arguing against her is Mr. Thentra Yaltar of the Over-realm’s Drelda Forest. Madam, Sir, are you both ready to begin?”

“I am prepared,” replied Kalo.

“As am I,” answered Thentra in a cool manner.

“Then, as per tradition, the defense shall begin,” directed Uluntan. Kalo rose and began her opening arguments.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she started, “there is precedence for us to welcome a new species with open arms. While our start with them was NOT smooth, we still address the Chimeras as friends and fellow people. Their obtaining of rights was too long and, as many Chimeras have stated, Mechanicas should not need to suffer for those rights. I urge that Mechanicas be given the same rights at a rapid pace.” She then sat down.

“Thank you, Mrs. Avonamei,” bid Uluntan. “Mr. Yaltar, your arguments?” Thentra then stood up.

“Far be it for me to deny anyone their rights,” he began, “but is haste truly the best way to make everyone equal? Unless I’m misremembering history, that’s what ended the First Age of Unity with the War of Stars when we tried to quickly introduce Chimera rights to the Realmfleet Constitution. To date, that was the bloodiest war we’ve ever had and I speak for those of us biological immortals who fought in that war when I say we cannot be hasty. I submit that now is not the time for Mechanica rights.” He then sat down.

“With the opening arguments having been said,” declared Uluntan, “we shall begin.” He banged his gavel. “Mr. Yaltar, you may call the first witness.”

“I call Mrs. Gronsar to the stand,” called Thentra. An Orc woman in a business suit then took the stand. “Madam, if you would state your name and occupation for the Court Record, that would be splendid,” directed Thentra.

“I’m Mrs. Galya Gronsar,” introduced the Orc woman, “manager of Under-rail.”

“Tell me, Mrs. Gronsar,” inquired Thentra, “what do you foresee if your fleet of engines were to come alive?”

“Honestly, a lot of lay-offs,” replied Mrs. Gronsar. “With engines talking and thinking as we do, being able to move or stop under their own power, there would be no need for them to have drivers, or firemen in the case of steam engines.”

“And if the engines were the ones to get paychecks instead of the workers you’ve hired?” asked Thentra.

“They’ll circumvent the need for me to pay for their repairs,” answered Mrs. Gronsar.

“Mrs. Avonamei, your witness,” declared Thentra. He sat down as Kalo approached Mrs. Gronsar.

“Mrs. Gronsar, this may seem like a trifle,” she began, “but how much are your workers making on average? Per year, let’s say.” Mrs. Gronsar looked up as she calculated how much her workers earn in a year.

“Let’s see,” she mused, “engine drivers get roughly 50,000 golds per year, firemen for steam engines get 52,000, repairmen earn 60,000...that’s all I can think of as of now without a calculator and worker table in front of me.”

“And repairs to any of the engines,” pressed Kalo. “How much are they per year?”

“I’d say roughly 700,000 golds per year,” replied Mrs. Gronsar.

“So, if one of your engine drivers decided to pay for it,” surmised Kalo, “they would need to put away 14 years of paychecks to pay for the repairs to their engines. But, most of them have families to consider and I’m willing to bet that they would rather put the money to their families instead of their engines.”

“Mrs. Avonamei, forgive me for interrupting,” called Uluntan, “but where is this going?”

“Where this is going,” explained Kalo, “is that, if engines were paid the same as their drivers, they would need to do the same. I have every reason to believe that Mechanicas, much like us, would want to start families and provide for them. They wouldn’t see the logic in hoarding 14 years’ worth of paychecks to pay for one bit of repairs or maintenance.”

“Did any Mechanica say so?” asked Thentra, assured in victory.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” replied Kalo, “but not the _Dauntless_ -class skyship that’s parked outside. No, this is an engine from Mrs. Gronsar’s fleet.”

“I beg your pardon?!” boomed Mrs. Gronsar. “One of MY engines?! I only have two living engines! Who’s testifying against me?!”

“I believe his engine number is 67456,” answered Kalo.

“...Hansar,” hissed Mrs. Gronsar.

“Is this engine here?” asked Uluntan.

“He is, Your Honor,” confirmed Kalo

“Let us see Engine 67456,” rumbled Uluntan. As Mrs. Gronsar left the stand, there was the puffing noise of a steam engine moving slowly. The engine then came in. Much like the engines in Galthar, he had a humanoid upper torso coming out where the funnel would be and he dressed in a repair person’s clothing. He had eight wheels connected by side rods, two side tanks for his water, and a coal bunker behind his cab. Somehow, he was making his own rails so he didn’t ruin the floor of the amphitheater. His driver, a female Leaf Elf, and fireman, a male Minotaur hopped from the footplate. The driver patted the engine’s side.

“Good luck, old boy,” she bid. Mrs. Gronsar was confused as she saw the crew sit with Kalo. Kalo then began.

“Please state your name and occupation for the Court Record,” she directed the engine.

“I’m Hansar, Engine 67456,” introduced the engine. “I’m the station pilot for Under-rail’s headquarters at Realmgate City.”

“Mr. Hansar, tell us,” inquired Kalo, “did you even think about leaving your crew behind?”

“I see no need to,” replied Hansar. “They’re too valuable to me.”

“Too valuable?” muttered Mrs. Gronsar.

“Yes, I can make myself go or stop whenever I wish,” continued Hansar, “but I’m the more reckless of Under-rail’s two living engines. I need other voices to get me to think before I act and my crew does just that. On top of that, my driver, Jalme, can see whether or not I’m functioning properly. When my fireman, Kuljur, was doubting his own importance to me, he asked me if I could reach my bunker. As I can demonstrate,” he twisted his torso and tried to reach back, “no matter how hard I try,” he grunted, “I can’t even reach my cab.” He stopped twisting and returned to giving testimony. “Without him, my fire wouldn’t burn and I can’t refuel it. As you can see, my crew is essential in my life. I see no reason to go anywhere on the rails without them.”

“Which explains another point of mine,” interjected Kalo. “I’ve heard fears of Mechanicas no longer needing organic life to help them. As we’ve all just heard, there’s still a place for us in keeping Mechanicas alive. Since they need us as much as we need them, I must urge the advancement of Mechanica rights!”

“And how would that prevent violence from occurring?” asked Thentra.

“...Pardon?” asked Kalo, caught off-guard.

“They’re similar to us,” continued Thentra, “who’s to say that there won’t be violence between organics and Mechanicas? I believe such a fight happened a while ago.”

“There it is,” muttered Kalo.

“Your Honor, I must urge,” insisted Thentra, “that tomorrow be spent discussing possible race riots between organic and mechanical life if the Mechanicas are granted equal rights right now.”

“Objection!” called Kalo. “Your Honor, I urge that we settle that question today!”

“Objection overruled,” dismissed Uluntan. “Both sides need more time to prepare their arguments of that subject. Court is adjourned for today and will reconvene tomorrow.” He banged his gavel and everyone cleared out.

* * *

“He can’t delay this!” hissed Arsha as she, Endea, and Kalo met in the Conference Room. She had long put her hairpiece in its drawer in her Ready Room. “We need Mechanica rights NOW!”

“Unfortunately,” sighed Kalo, “all royal families needed to appease those that said such rights are harmful. This trial SHOULD get people to hear both sides of the argument before lines are drawn for war. And, yes, your parents said the trial was necessary.”

“I don’t believe this! My own parents!” growled Arsha.

“There’s nothing we can do,” insisted Kalo. “We need this trial to play out.” Arsha drew in a breath, then calmed down.

“You’re right, we need to be a little patient,” she sighed.

“All right, he’s definitely going to use my fight two days ago,” declared Endea. “We need to figure out how to counter that.”

“Agreed,” confirmed Kalo. “Let’s get started.” The three then planned their defense.


	15. Chapter 15

Arsha’s sleep after the trial’s first day wasn’t peaceful. She was haunted by something, but she couldn’t place what. She was a little groggy as she shuffled to Barmek’s in her night gown. “Welcome to Barmek’s Bar and Grill!” called Mr. Barmek. “Let me get you a seat, Captain!”

“Thanks,” muttered Arsha.

“You look like you could use some Under-realm coffee,” observed Mr. Barmek.

“Whatever breakfast dish will wake me up fast and keep me alert for the day,” mumbled Arsha, “I want it.”

“I know just the dish and beverage,” declared Mr. Barmek. “I’ll be bringing it to you shortly.” He then turned to the kitchen. “The Captain at table 3 wants Galdredan sausage, a slice of Galthar Elf toast with Drelda Fae honey, and a hot cup of Haldebor coffee with Rooka sugar!”

“The up-and-at-‘em special for Arsha on table 3, coming up!” replied Jaltor. The dish’s preparation took roughly 10 minutes before Jaltor set it on the counter to be picked up. “Order up! Single up-and-at-‘em special for the Captain on 3!” Mr. Barmek then brought the dish over and Arsha paid for it. Mr. Barmek decided that Arsha wasn’t going to be receptive to talk at the moment, so he just let her eat her meal in peace. As she ate, her communicator went off. She blearily accepted the call.

“Yes?” she mumbled.

“Captain Royana, you have a pair of men wishing to come aboard,” replied Shalvey’s voice. “They’re asking you by name.”

“Permission granted,” muttered Arsha. “Send them to Barmek’s.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” confirmed Shalvey. The call ended and Arsha returned to her breakfast. She slowly ate her food and drank her coffee, grogginess slowing her down by quite some measure. As she continued with her meal, Mr. Barmek greeted a Minotaur and Human. They spoke with him, then Mr. Barmek grinned.

“Captain!” he called. Arsha looked up from her food, then her expression changed to surprise as she clapped eyes on the Human and Minotaur. “I believe you know these gentlemen?” quizzed Mr. Barmek as he grinned. Arsha rubbed her eyes, then looked harder at the two.

“Hello, Foxy,” greeted the Minotaur.

“GORFANTH! FORESNA!” cheered Arsha, her mood now a happier one. She got up and pulled the two into a group hug. “Ones, it’s been too long! What are you two doing here?”

“Oh, just wanted to deliver good news,” replied Foresna. “Guess who got their requests to live on the _Endeavor_ and _High Sky_ approved?”

“You mean...you boys...?!” gasped Arsha happily.

“Are living with you now!” finished Gorfanth. “Malnar and Falnii are living with Lardeth on the _High Sky_ now. Once Lardeth’s done with his tour of duty, they’ll be requesting to live with us and we’ll all be under one roof!” Arsha squealed in happiness.

“You have no idea how much hearing that lifts my spirits!” she cheered. “Did you guys already eat?”

“We did,” replied Foresna. “We wanted to catch you before you plan for today’s trial proceedings.”

“Well, I’m in a better mind to refine our plan now,” affirmed Arsha. “I’ll have to give you a tour of the ship once this is over!” They continued talking as Arsha ate. Once she finished, she led them to her quarters where they would be living together. She ducked into the bathroom to change into her outfit, ready for the day ahead. She left the bathroom and was embraced by her boys once again. They stayed close for a good while before she broke it off. “I need to go,” she sighed. “Endea needs me. I’ll have you two meet her after today’s proceedings.”

“That would be great!” replied Gorfanth. “See you later!” She kissed them goodbye before leaving the room. As she walked down the hall, she met Endea.

“Kalo’s waiting in the Conference Room,” she reported.

“Then let’s make haste,” declared Arsha.

* * *

The Amphitheater was packed again and ready for the next day of arguments. Kalo and Thentra took their places and waited for Uluntan. He then came in. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Uluntan!” called the Bailiff. Everyone rose.

“Be seated,” directed Uluntan. Everyone sat down and Uluntan banged his gavel. “Court will now reconvene for the trial of Mechanica rights. As a reminder, defending said rights is Mrs. Kalodina Avonamei of the Over-realm’s Chromanian Sea Merfolk Kingdom. Arguing against her is Mr. Thentra Yaltar of the Over-realm’s Drelda Forest. Madam, Sir, are you both ready to begin the proceedings?”

“I am ready,” confirmed Kalo.

“As am I,” answered Thentra in his usual manner.

“Then let’s begin today’s proceedings,” declared Uluntan. “Stenographer, please remind everyone what I directed both sides to do.”

“Both Mrs. Avonamei and Mr. Yaltar,” read back the Stenographer, “were instructed to argue around the potential for violence between Mechanicas and organics.”

“Thank you,” bid Uluntan. “The defense shall give their opening arguments.” Kalo stood up and began.

“As with any single one of us,” she explained, “the potential to fight IS there in Mechanicas. I repeat, as with any single one of us. Life, in some fashion, runs into conflict and must resolve said conflict by either words or actions. We all try to use words, as do Mechanicas, but sometimes words fail us prematurely. To deny Mechanicas their equal rights on that ground would only prove we are slaves to hypocrisy. I argue that ensuring Mechanica rights will keep the violence between new and old species at a low.”

“Very good, Mrs. Avonamei,” bid Uluntan. “Mr. Yaltar, your arguments?” As Kalo sat back down, Thentra stood up.

“I will concede that violence is inherent in all manner of life,” he began, “but we’ve had the time to temper the need to settle disputes with violence. Mechanicas, on the other hand, are not so disciplined. I argue that, like parents, we must restrict their rights until they are ready.” Some of the parents in the crowd then talked amongst themselves, discussing Thentra’s words, until they heard the gavel.

“Quiet, please,” directed Uluntan. “Mr. Yaltar, have you a witness?”

“I do, Your Honor,” replied Thentra. “I call Transhell to the stand.”

“And here we go,” muttered Kalo. Transhell then rose from his seat and took the stand.

“Please state your name and occupation for the Court Record,” directed Thentra.

“Lieutenant Transhell Ulndrar,” introduced Transhell. “Crew member of the _Endeavor_ , registry CRS-2784, _Dauntless_...”

“Thank you, we all know what type of vessel the _Endeavor_ is,” interjected Thentra. “Lieutenant Ulndrar, it’s come to my attention that you’re the first person to ever get into a fist-fight with their ship.”

“That’s not something I’d brag about, but yes,” muttered Transhell.

“Please, tell the court what happened between you two,” directed Thentra.

“I was working on a bit of maintenance for the ship when I heard a yelp,” began Transhell. “Endea complained that I was being too rough on her. We argued and then she punched me square in the jaw. How did I get out of it? The Captain put me on waste extraction for the remainder of the day! I was the one wronged and Endea got off scot free!”

“So, you feel as if there was preference involved here,” surmised Thentra.

“Yes!” confirmed Transhell. “The Captain should have, at least, gave us both the same punishment! All Endea did was sort Marshii’s medical stuff! I was the one called a racist and she was the one who attacked me!”

“Mrs. Avonamei, your witness,” declared Thentra. Kalo then began her cross-examination.

“Lieutenant Ulndrar,” she pressed, “you said you were the one wronged.”

“I did,” replied Transhell.

“So, how can you explain the racially charged comments of ‘tin can’, ‘garbage scow’, and ‘floating scrap heap’?” inquired Kalo. Transhell gulped as Thentra raised his eyebrow.

“Your Honor, the witness never told me he said any of those things,” explained Thentra.

“Then the question is thus: did you actually say them?” asked Uluntan. “Remember, you’re under oath.” Transhell tried to come up with carefully constructed words, but they failed him.

“It’s true,” he sighed. “I said them in the heat of the argument.”

“The fact is, you still said them,” interjected Kalo. “The heat of the moment doesn’t matter.”

“Objection!” called Thentra. “Your Honor, the heat of the moment wouldn’t have happened if Endea tried a different approach!”

“Objection!” countered Kalo. “Endea DID try the civilized approach and her attempts were met with scorn!”

“I would say I’d need to hear that from her!” declared Thentra.

“She’d be happy to tell you, I can assure you,” replied Kalo.

“Then call her in,” directed Uluntan.

“I call Endea to the stand!” announced Kalo. Transhell sat back down as Endea took the stand. “The Court would like your name and occupation for their Record,” directed Kalo.

“Endea, the living extension of the _Dauntless_ -class skyship, _Endeavor_ ,” introduced Endea.

“Endea, could you tell the court what happened during the argument that sparked the fight?” asked Kalo.

“I was telling Transhell to take it easy on the welding torch when he was repairing a bit of paneling,” explained Endea. “He scoffed, saying he wasn’t even touching me with it and I reminded him that I could still feel pain from the ship. He laughed in my face, saying that I didn’t have nerves, thus I was faking it. I told him I could feel just like him, but he dismissed me by saying that there was nothing wrong with his welding. That was when tempers flared and I demanded he treat me better than that. That was when he hurled the aforementioned slurs and I started punching him. A crowd had gathered, then Arsha broke the fight up and ripped into us, sending us off to our respective punishments and snapping at the crowd for doing nothing to stop the fight.”

“Wait, wait, wait, she got angry with the crowd?!” interjected Transhell.

“Zip it!” hissed Thentra.

“No, I won’t!” argued Transhell. “By the Ones, this whole thing is ridiculous! Endea’s warped Arsha’s mind! I’ll bet the Divine Ones won’t accept this!”

“I don’t know, Lady Sentriam and Lord Benthe ARE advocating for adopting Mechanicas as theirs, just as they did with the Chimeras,” replied Endea. That sparked chatter amongst the crowd. Uluntan banged the gavel.

“Order in the court!” he boomed. “Endea, is this true?! You spoke with Lady Sentriam and Lord Benthe?!”

“Both the Captain and I did after the circumstances of my...er...birth, as it were,” replied Endea. “They were both concerned that some of the Breath of Life was still at large and expressed gratitude that we brought it to their attention. They said they would fight to have their peers adopt Mechanicas as their own.”

“Absurd!” scoffed Transhell. “No way will they do so!”

“That remains to be seen,” answered Kalo. “Endea, I’m a little annoyed that you and Arsha didn’t mention this to me.”

“And I must say, the concept of you talking to the Divine Ones,” remarked Thentra, “came out of nowhere. I urge that the court lets both sides gather evidence for tomorrow.”

“I agree,” called Kalo. “This may be necessary testimony to influence one side or the other.”

“Then, tomorrow,” declared Uluntan, “will be the last day of these proceedings. If they wish, the Divine Ones may testify. Court is adjourned for today.” He banged the gavel and everyone left the amphitheater.

* * *

“And you didn’t mention you actually spoke with them?!” hissed Kalo as she met with Endea and Arsha in the Conference Room.

“We didn’t think that it really mattered so much,” explained Arsha.

“Are you kidding?!” argued Kalo. “Take it from a Sea Witch, the voice of the Divine Ones carries more weight than you think, especially if they are actively fighting for a new species to be recognized as equals!”

“I doubt they’re going to testify,” muttered Endea.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to make that statement,” boomed Benthe’s voice. He then came into the room. Instead of his misty torso form, he was a full-bodied Elf in pink.

“Lord Benthe!” yelped Arsha as she knelt.

“Rise, please,” directed Benthe. “I have taken a corporeal form to assist you tomorrow. I have news that you need to hear.”

“Then let’s discuss what you’re going to say tomorrow, Lord Benthe,” declared Kalo.


	16. Chapter 16

Arsha had slept a little better now that she had Foresna and Gorfanth living with her. As they shared the bed, Arsha was between her lovers. She stirred and felt her stretching be interrupted. She looked at both sides, then smiled as she stroked the Human and Minotaur. They stirred and moved to face Arsha. “Hello Beautiful,” whispered Foresna.

“Good Morning, Foxy,” rumbled Gorfanth.

“Morning, Farm Boy, Hooves,” returned Arsha. The two men then smooched her cheeks, causing her to giggle a bit. “...Much as I wanna stay like this forever,” sighed Arsha, “there’s still a trial to finish.”

“How did your planning session with Lord Benthe go?” asked Gorfanth as they got out of bed.

“Very well, actually,” replied Arsha as she moved to the closet. “We might have a chance to sway Uluntan.”

“I hope so,” muttered Foresna as he grabbed his towel. “He’s a stubborn one.”

“I hope he decides in favor of Mechanica rights,” wished Gorfanth. “She needs more than one group supporting her.”

“Well, we’ve still got today to convince him,” answered Arsha as she laid out her clothes. “I’m confident he WILL see reason.”

* * *

After breakfast, the last day of the trial began. Everyone was pulling out all the stops as they planned their arguments. Everyone gathered in the amphitheater and took their places. Uluntan then came in. “All rise for the honorable Judge Uluntan!” called the bailiff. Everyone stood up.

“Be seated,” directed Uluntan. As everyone sat down, Uluntan banged his gavel. “Court will now reconvene for the trial of Mechanica rights. As this is the last day, there will be no more requests to gather evidence. I will be giving my decision tomorrow morning. As a reminder, defending Mechanica rights is Mrs. Kalodina Avonamei of the Over-realm’s Chromanian Sea Merfolk Kingdom. Arguing against her is Mr. Thentra Yaltar of the Over-realm’s Drelda Forest. Madam, Sir, are you both ready to begin the proceedings?”

“I am ready,” confirmed Kalo.

“As am I,” answered Thentra.

“Then let’s end this,” directed Uluntan. “Stenographer, please remind everyone what was decided for today’s proceedings.”

“Yesterday,” the Stenographer answered, “the fact that the issue had gained Divine One attention was revealed. It was declared that both sides would prepare on that subject.”

“Thank you,” bid Uluntan. “Let’s get this underway. Defense, your opening arguments, please.” Kalo stood up.

“As I mentioned yesterday,” she began, “I’m a little miffed Arsha and Endea didn’t tell me about their chat with Lady Sentriam and Lord Benthe as we planned for the previous two days of this trial!” She glared at the two to emphasize her point. “However, what’s done is done. Lord Benthe himself assisted in aiding us in our planning. He did mention that the decision to adopt Mechanicas is split amongst the Divine Ones, so they’ve left the decision to us. I urge that the court gives Mechanicas the rights they deserve so they may be considered the Divine Ones’ children.”

“Well said,” bid Uluntan as Kalo sat down. “Mr. Yaltar, your counterarguments?” Thentra rose from his seat.

“I will be the first to say that I will follow the will of the Divine Ones,” he began. “Whatever decision they make, I will heed. I must say, any decision to leave mortal affairs to us is a welcome one, no disrespect meant, you understand. It shows that they are willing to go with our decisions just as we are willing, generally, to go with theirs. The fact that there IS debate on this matter amongst the Divine Ones shows that there are those who believe haste makes waste. As such, I must urge that now is NOT the time to grant Mechanica rights.” He sat down.

“With all the arguments heard,” declared Uluntan, “we must finish this. Mr. Yaltar, you may call your witness.”

“I call Lady Altrek to the stand,” called Thentra. Purple mist then appeared, then formed into a Minotaur lady in purple. with her amulet fastening her shoulder strap. The lady took the stand. “I know this is rather redundant,” began Thentra, “but please state your name and occupation for the Court Record.”

“I am Altrek,” introduced the Minotaur lady, “the Second Divine One of Air.”

“My Lady, it’s been revealed,” recalled Thentra, “that there are those among the Divine Ones who are against adopting Mechanicas.”

“Yes, and I’m one of them,” confirmed Altrek.

“Could you explain why?” asked Thentra.

“When the Fracturing took place,” explained Altrek, “I was under the impression that we would leave the species as they are. We had the Breath sealed away because someone would weaponize it and it looks like Reb had done so. Need I remind everyone about the Galthar Affair?”

“I pray you, no!” called someone in the crowd.

“Your prayers are answered,” joked Altrek. “In any event, with Sentriam and Benthe urging the sealing of that which they created, I see no reason to grant Mechanica rights.”

“Your witness,” Thentra bid Kalo. Kalo stood and approached the stand.

“Lady Altrek,” she began, “you wished for our current number of species to remain the same since the Fracturing, that is what you’ve said?”

“It is,” confirmed Altrek. “I fear that everyone will run out of resources to sustain the newer species, especially Mechanicas and Chimeras.”

“May I ask who agreed with you?” asked Kalo.

“...I fail to see how that’s relevant,” muttered Altrek.

“I just wish to know if there was a definitive ally to your cause,” explained Kalo.

“Well, no, there’s no definitive ally,” replied Altrek. “We decided by secret ballot to let you lot settle this and were under oath to keep our views secret unless asked. I’m confident that the creators of the Breath would agree with me, that your world is not ready for living machines.”

“You’d be surprised, My Lady,” declared Kalo.

“...What’s THAT supposed to mean?!” quizzed Altrek.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have spoken with Benthe last night and he has announced his and Sentriam’s support for Mechanica rights,” Kalo called to the crowd. Everyone started chattering about this revelation.

“Order in the court!” called Uluntan as he banged his gavel. “Order in the court! Order! I will have order!” Eventually, the crowd calmed down.

“Forgive me if I’m suspicious of your claim, Kalodina Avonamei,” hissed Altrek, but I need to hear that from one of them!”

“And hear it from them, you shall,” promised Kalo. “I call Lord Benthe to the stand!” Altrek left the stand as Benthe in his Elf disguise took it. “Like your colleague, the Court Record needs your name and occupation.”

“I am Benthe,” introduced Benthe, “the Fourth Divine One of Love.”

“Lord Benthe,” quizzed Kalo, “could you confirm, for your colleague, what you said last night?”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Avonamei,” answered Benthe. “Sentriam and I have discussed what possible advantages could benefit the Realms if Mechanica rights were passed. Granted, we had to acknowledge the possible downsides, but we deemed that the pros outweighed the cons.”

“And you find that we can adapt well with Mechanicas in our lives?” asked Kalo.

“Exponentially well,” replied Benthe.

“Mr. Yaltar, your witness,” directed Kalo. Kalo down as Thentra approached Benthe.

“Lord Benthe, did you consider that the mana needed to fuel many of the Mechanicas would run out eventually?” inquired Thentra.

“It had crossed our minds, yes,” answered Benthe.

“Yet, you still see no problem with this?” continued Thentra.

“Not any problems that can’t be solved,” answered Benthe, “either by Divine One help or the innovation you’re all famous for.”

“I fail to see how innovation can help us,” remarked Thentra.

“Then you haven’t heard of your scientists making a device that can replenish mana crystals?” asked Benthe.

“It’s nothing but a pipe dream,” dismissed Thentra.

“So were skyships and now they’re a common sight across the Realms,” reminded Benthe.

“But skyships took the entirety of the First Age of Unity before they became a reality,” reminded Thentra.

“And, after that, other inventions came easier,” countered Benthe. “Besides, if mana-powered Mechanicas want to protect their fuel source, they would aid in inventing a mana replenishing device. With their aid comes a new era of invention and imagination! I believe that their ideas will make the Realms better than they already are!”

“...No further questions,” declared Thentra.

“Will we be hearing any more testimony today?” asked Uluntan.

“I have no more witnesses,” replied Thentra.

“Neither do I,” announced Kalo.

“Then it is time to hear the closing arguments,” directed Uluntan. “Mrs. Avonamei, you may start.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Kalo, “as we have all heard from both Mechanicas and organics alike, it is clear that we can only secure a better future for the Mechanicas if we work together. We must listen to the Mechanica’s view of things and understand them to make this world a better place. The defense rests.”

“Thank you,” bid Uluntan. “Mr. Yaltar, your closing arguments?”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Thentra, “as I’ve said at the start of all this, I wouldn’t dream of obstructing the rights of anyone. However, as I’m sure we all remember, haste only brings problems. While the Chimeras enjoy their rights, there ARE those that will do everything in their power to keep them from doing so. Need I mention the now-closed Vorkath Monastic Hospital and their involvement in Chimera experimentation? We need to be assured that such tragedies won’t happen before we give Mechanicas rights. I urge the court, don’t be hasty.” He then sat back down.

“With the closing arguments said,” declared Uluntan, “Court will adjourn for today until I give my decision tomorrow. Let my words be the final words.” He banged the gavel and dismissed everyone.

* * *

“Well, it’s out of our hands now,” sighed Arsha as she, Endea, Gorfanth, Kalo, Foresna, and Benthe met in the Conference Room. “All we can do is wait.”

“Waiting, the fun part,” grumbled Foresna.

“Now, now, waiting is needed for a rational decision,” chided Gorfanth.

“I thought that you only quote from _The Differences of Lust and Love_ when there’s a relationship going wrong,” muttered Foresna.

“That specific quote can be used in a variety of situations,” replied Gorfanth.

“He IS right,” remarked Kalo. “We can’t do much else.”

“I hope I DO get my rights spelled out as much as you all do,” sighed Endea.

“If not, I will still treat you as a fellow person and give you the dignity you deserve,” promised Arsha.

“As will I,” supplied Benthe.

“And me,” continued Kalo.

“Don’t forget me!” called Foresna.

“Or me,” finished Gorfanth. Endea’s eyes misted as she smiled.

“Thank you, all of you!” she bid as she hugged everyone.


	17. Chapter 17

The day of the Trial’s outcome had arrived. Everyone had gathered in the Amphitheater to witness the decision of Uluntan. He approached his seat. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Uluntan!” called the bailiff. Everyone rose on cue.

“Be seated,” directed Uluntan. As everyone sat down, he banged his gavel. “The day has come for the court’s decision. Stenographer, give us a day-by-day summary of the trial.”

“Day One,” began the Stenographer, “the opening arguments identified the general two sides of the Mechanica rights debate. The witnesses on that day gave their views on whether or not Mechanicas would circumvent the need for workers to maintain Mechanicas. The proceedings of that day ended when the topic of violence between Mechanicas and organics was brought up. Court had adjourned until the next day. Day Two: both sides had prepared their arguments for the topic of violence between Mechanicas and organics. The proceedings centered around an altercation between the _Endeavor_ and a member of her crew. One of the witnesses declared that the Divine Ones would not pay attention to these proceedings while the other one explained that the debate had reached even them. Court had adjourned until yesterday. Day Three: the opening arguments on both sides centered on whether or not the Divine Ones would adopt Mechanicas as their children. We were graced with the presence of two Divine Ones, one on each side of the argument. The day’s proceedings ended with closing arguments and Court was adjourned with the announcement that we would all hear the decision today.”

“Thank you,” bid Uluntan. He looked at both Kalo and Thentra. “You two are clearly students of Mrs. Kosnar. You have both given excellent points and used your points well to explain the arguments. If it were possible, I would listen to you two debate for eternity as I know you two will keep things civil. However, we are not people with that kind of time. The debate must be settled. Ladies and gentlemen gathered here, I have thought long and hard about this matter. I must admit, advising all governments in the Realms is quite the daunting task. Normally, I would be uncertain to take this trial. However, I would be derelict in my duty if I didn’t preside over this. After hearing both sides, while points were well made, I cannot, in good conscience, permit any life-form to suffer the yolk of inequality. Therefore...I advise all governments to ensure that Mechanica rights are protected! The court urges the immediate passing of Mechanica rights!” He banged his gavel in a move of finality. Kalo and her group cheered in victory! Transhell, on the other hand, was NOT a happy camper. He just stood there, anger contorting his face into an unnatural shape.

* * *

Transhell spent most of the victory celebration in his quarters, trying to meditate, the operative word being ‘trying’. He was still angry, his body shaking in an effort to keep himself from flying into a self-destructive rage. His door chimed. “Go away!” he snarled. The person at the door, Elmar, didn’t listen.

“You’re not doing the crew any favors by sitting alone,” remarked Elmar.

“I’m not in the mood for Wood Elf wisdom!” growled Transhell.

“What about plain old Elf wisdom?” quizzed Elmar. “How about we just discuss what’s wrong as Elves? Not Wood Elf and Stone Elf, just Elves.”

“...What’s wrong?!” hissed Transhell. “What’s wrong?! I’ll tell you what’s wrong; the sham trial and the ridiculous decision of the judge!”

“I hardly see it as a sham trial,” replied Elmar.

“Granting kettles like this ship rights?!” snapped Transhell. “That’s not a sham trial?!”

“She is as much a living person as you and me,” answered Elmar.

“That thing shouldn’t have to be alive!” argued Transhell. “I’m sorry, but Altrek had the right idea in arguing against all this!”

“Yet she and her fellows placed their faith in the decision made today,” recalled Elmar.

“Then their faith was misplaced!” roared Transhell. “I was confident that we’d have no more conflicts! The ship being alive only destroyed that dream!”

“We must consider the Realms’ greater good,” countered Elmar.

“I’ve done that my entire life!” shouted Transhell. “What about MY greater good?! Why should I sacrifice anything just for the general good anymore if my sacrifices are being spat on?!”

“I fail to see how your sacrifices were spat on,” remarked Elmar.

“I joined Realmfleet to preserve our current era, not change it!” answered Transhell. “You know what change leads to?! War, that’s what! My dad was broken after the War of the Depths! You know, the war that ended the previous Age of Unity?!”

“Staying the same leads to stagnation,” countered Elmar, “and is a greater impetus to war than change. Chaos and change are neither good or bad, they just ARE. Realmfleet knows this, your father knows this, we ALL know this. It’s how we deal with chaos and change that determines whether it’s good or bad.” Transhell stood silent for a moment, just one moment.

“...YOU DON’T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT GOOD OR BAD!” roared Transhell. “YOU DON’T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME! I HATE THE SHIP! I HATE THE COURT’S DECISION! I HATE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE THAT SAYS I NEED TO ACCEPT ALL THIS! PUBLISH THAT IN YOUR SCIENCE JOURNAL!” He grabbed his supply of duty uniforms, shoved past Elmar, and stormed to Barmek’s.

* * *

The mood at Barmek’s was one of celebration! Because she didn’t receive a paycheck yet, Endea was enjoying a free meal. She was talking to Arsha, Gorfanth, and Foresna. “And then the clownfish said,” she wrapped up the joke she was telling, “‘with friends like these, who needs anemones?’” Everyone laughed.

“And Marshii told you that?” asked Foresna.

“Kinda seems out of place for her,” remarked Arsha.

“Speaking of which, where IS Marshii?” asked Gorfanth.

“She’s reconnecting with her family at the Morgonthor Polyp Gardens,” replied Arsha. “She’ll be back tonight.” Just then, Transhell stormed in. “Hey! Transhell! Come join the party!” called Arsha.

“I’m not here to join a party for giving this tub rights that weren’t theirs to begin with!” snarled Transhell.

“Take that kind of talk elsewhere,” directed Arsha. “The rest of us would rather celebrate Mechanica rights being protected.”

“Then celebrate without me!” declared Transhell. “In fact, continue this voyage without me!”

“...What’s THAT supposed to mean?” asked Arsha.

“Captain Royana, your decision to protect the ship’s unwarranted sense of self has led me to believe,” continued Transhell, “that you’re not fit for command. As I don’t have any allies on this ship, a mutiny is out of the question. Therefore, I have only one recourse, since Realmfleet’s not doing anything to give my views any credence.” He then let his duty uniforms drop to the floor. “I’m resigning my commission.”

“...You’re seriously leaving Realmfleet?” scoffed Gorfanth. “Over a new woman gaining the rights that were rightfully due to her?”

“Wake up, bull,” hissed Transhell. Gorfanth’s nostrils flared. Foresna was about to charge at him and defend his spouse, but Gorfanth held him back. “Do you really think this change will be good?” continued Transhell. “Have you really considered all the problems? I have to say, for once, the Divine Ones were wrong to leave it to us. I’m leaving this ship, taking the first shuttle back to the Drelda Forest, and I’m NOT going back to Realmfleet. Go on without me.” He then walked out of the bar.

“Little Elf runt!” growled Foresna. “Just let me at...!”

“Let him run away,” directed Arsha.

“...Captain, I don’t think I understand,” remarked Mr. Barmek.

“Realmfleet is a continually changing force,” explained Arsha. “If he feels that Realmfleet’s wrong, he can leave. To be frank, I feel that we’ll get on better without him. Less chance of Endea hearing that kind of talk, the better. Now, enough about him, we’ve still got a celebration for Endea! This is her day!” The declaration was received well and the party went back to normal.

* * *

“So, you really ARE leaving,” muttered Transhell’s sister, Dwenshell, over a communicator. “This is a real setback! I’m EXTREMELY disappointed in you!”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll get by!” hissed Transhell as he finished packing his bags.

“Look, I’m gonna be frank here!” snarled Dwenshell. “Somehow, don’t ask me how, Dr. Borg’s lost a lot of people as like-minded as you! In the short term, I say good riddance! We can make do without them! We can’t...”

“Even your son?” asked Transhell.

“...Make do without you!” continued Dwenshell. “You would be a valuable asset! You just need to drop this anti-Mechanica nonsense! If any of us had your talents...!”

“Ones help us all,” groaned another voice.

“Scorpo?” asked Dwenshell. “Is that you? Are...are you recording this?!”

“Yeah,” replied the voice.

“Well, cut it out!” snapped Dwenshell. “It’s annoying, you recording everything!”

“Dr. Borg’s made me her eyes and ears!” protested Scorpo. “This could have repercussions for our campaign!”

“Dwenshell, you know I’ve done a lot of things, right?” asked Transhell. “Things that I bitterly...forget it! My point is, if you’re going to grant your ship the same rights as every other now-living tin can, then there’s no difference between you and Realmfleet! The Over-Splitters are right, you’re a threat to the Realms.”

“You know what your problem is?!” snapped Dwenshell. “You’ve got your head stuck so far up your rear; you can’t see the big picture!” Transhell just switched his communicator off and stormed out of his former quarters, making a beeline towards the ship’s exit.

* * *

Dwenshell sucked in a breath as she clenched her fists. A man in leather with a mechanical tail and claws on the back of his wrists approached her. He had the _Scorpion_ ’s name and registry number on it. It was safe to assume this was Scorpo, the living extension of the _Scorpion_. “What do we tell Dr. Borg?” asked Scorpo.

“ _I_ tell her,” replied Dwenshell, “the recruitment drive was a bust! I don’t need help in lying.”

“It might put you in a more favorable light with her,” remarked Scorpo.

“The truth is less painful,” dismissed Dwenshell. “Just open a channel to her.” Scorpo rolled his eyes.

“...Channel open,” he reported. Dr. Borg’s face filled the screen.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Disastrously,” replied Dwenshell. “He’s decided that the Over-Splitters have a better idea. Scorpo recorded the whole conversation.”

“A pity,” mused Dr. Borg. “We could have used him. Oh well, we’ll just have to send the package without him.”

“Are you serious?!” protested Scorpo.

“Of course,” replied Dr. Borg. “The Realms will never know what hit them.”


	18. Chapter 18

Arsha, Gorfanth, and Foresna woke up the next day. This time, waking up was slow-going. They partied a bit too hard during the previous night. “Morning...” groaned Foresna.

“Not ‘Good Morning’?” snarked Arsha as she rubbed her eyes.

“Don’t talk,” moaned Foresna. “My head’s currently trying out for egg-cracking auditions.”

“The morning is EVIL!” hissed Gorfanth as they all got out of bed and shuffled to Barmek’s. Mr. Barmek greeted them at the door again. They all ordered the Up-and-at-‘em special and sat at their table. As they ordered, Endea skipped in, beaming happily. When he finished taking their orders, Mr. Barmek returned to the door.

“Good Morning!” she cheered.

“Good Morning!” returned Mr. Barmek. “You’re taking the Engineer’s test today, right?”

“That’s right!” confirmed Endea. “The instant I pass, I’m getting a paycheck and working as an Engineer with the rank of lieutenant! I told Realmfleet about the meals I had and they’ll add it to my first paycheck so I can pay it off in one fell swoop!”

“Then you need some brain food,” declared Mr. Barmek. “I have just the dish for you!”

“Then I’ll have it!” replied Endea.

“Ship on table 4 needs Haldebor sausage patties,” called Mr. Barmek to Jaltor, “Dwelga scrambled eggs, Greshkagh toast with peanut butter, and a cup of Crelima coffee! Captain and her fiancées on table 6 each need Galdredan sausage, a slice of Galthar Elf toast with Drelda Fae honey, and a hot cup of Haldebor coffee with Rooka sugar!”

“Good-luck special for Endea on table 4 and three up-and-at-‘em specials for the Captain and her fiancées on table 6!” replied Jaltor. “Coming up!”

“So, what’s on the agenda for today, Foxy?” asked Foresna.

“Got a mission in Dwelga,” replied Arsha. “We’re picking up an important figure in Goblin society.”

“Sorry, did I hear you right?!” yelped Mr. Barmek as he and Mrs. Barmek came by with their orders. “Dwelga?!”

“The same place we ran from after we were stripped of our fortunes?!” continued Mrs. Barmek.

“I understand your feelings,” replied Arsha, “but this mission was requested by the Imperium itself. The Goblin practically demanded this ship assist them.”

“Oh boy,” muttered Mr. Barmek.

* * *

After breakfast, Endea made her way to her new quarters and cracked her knuckles. She turned on her computer, found the site she needed, then keyed in a command that brought the Engineer’s test up. A virtual instructor appeared. “Welcome, Endea, to the Engineer’s test,” began the instructor. “Thangred has already informed me that you have completed the practical and now need to do the written portion. You have 15 questions to answer and each question must be about a paragraph long. Each paragraph needs to be long enough to fully explain your answer, so take your time. You will need to correctly answer 13 questions to pass. Click on the check mark to begin.” Endea did so. “Your written test begins. Good luck!” The screen then went to the first question and Endea read it multiple times to understand it.

“Let’s see, broken maho-link...” mused Endea.

* * *

While she took the test, Nazay flew the _Endeavor_ out of the water and over to Dwelga, the Goblin city-state at the Central Continent’s northwestern corner. The trip took about an hour before the ship landed. When it did, the ramp lowered and Arsha, Denstra, and Bashoon walked down the ramp. “Why would this Goblin want to see me?” gulped Bashoon.

“He’s asked for you by name,” replied Denstra. “We need to figure out why.” The three looked down the path to see an important looking Goblin man approaching them. Recognition hit them like a freight train. “Well, I’ll be damned!” chuckled Arsha.

“I never realized how important this Goblin was!” remarked Denstra.

“Now I REALLY need to get out of his sight!” gulped Bashoon. “Why did he ask for us?!” The Goblin then stopped in front of the three ladies. Two were in awe, one was in fear.

“Grand Treasurer Penshek Tolshoon!” greeted Arsha. “We’re honored by your presence. I am Arsha Royana, Captain of the _Endeavor_. This is my First Officer, Denstra Welmeva, and I believe you said you wanted to see the first Goblin to enter Realmfleet? May I present Ensign Bashoon Barmek.”

“I was just about to...” stammered Bashoon.

“Ah, yes, Barmek,” rumbled the important Goblin, Penshek. “A family that argued against what we did in Falgreth a year ago. A family that lost its fortunes. A family that gained profit outside of the Imperium’s Guidelines!” Bashoon looked to the ground, feeling publicly shamed. “...A pleasure to meet you,” greeted Penshek in a tone of friendliness. Bashoon looked directly at Penshek in surprise. “Your seeking profit outside the Guidelines of the Imperium sparked a profit revolution! Anyone who’s an enemy of the Old Guard,” he held out his hand, “is a friend of mine!” Bashoon’s surprise made her a bit slow in accepting the handshake. When she did, she was beaming like a giddy fangirl.

“This is a tremendous honor!” she cheered.

“The honor is mine,” returned Penshek. He then turned to the Captain. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Granted,” replied Arsha. The four then returned to the ship and walked to Barmek’s. “I have a feeling you’ll want to see her parents,” mused Arsha.

“Of course,” agreed Penshek.

* * *

Barmek’s was experiencing a slow-down, as expected. The morning rush had finished and there were still a few hours before the lunch rush. It was a perfect time to clean. Mr. Barmek had just finished cleaning off the tables and Jaltor had finished with the floors. They went to assist Mrs. Barmek with the stoves and ovens. As they cleaned, Jaltor got a message on his communicator. “Huh,” he mused as he read it. “It’s Denstra.”

“What does your wife need?” asked Mrs. Barmek.

“She says that she, the Captain, and Bashoon are bringing someone called Penshek Tolshoon here,” replied Jaltor.

“PENSHEK?!” yelped Mr. and Mrs. Barmek. Just then, the four aforementioned people entered the restaurant.

“Daddy!” called Bashoon.

“We were just closing up!” gulped Mr. Barmek.

“Join us, Daddy,” urged Bashoon. “You and Mom need to meet our family hero!

“We really don’t!” insisted Mrs. Barmek. “Our presence will make the Grand Treasurer uncomfortable! I don’t know if you’ve forgot, but we’re outcasts amongst most Goblins!”

“And what I have to say,” interjected Penshek, “will force the Imperium to recognize you as the heroes you are.”

“...Beg pardon?” asked Mrs. Barmek.

“She and I are equally confused,” remarked Mr. Barmek.

“We’ve started a profit revolution!” explained Bashoon. “Goblins are seeking profit outside the Guidelines! More Goblins are requesting to serve in Realmfleet!”

“...You’re kidding!” breathed Mr. Barmek.

“She’s not,” assured Penshek. “I have the reports to prove it!” He pulled out a pad of papers and presented them to the Barmeks. The two looked at the reports, then beamed with pride.

“Well, well!” chuckled Mrs. Barmek. “I had no idea!”

“Jaltor, Penshek needs Galdredan spaghetti, Grilthan salad, and a Dwelga milkshake!” called Mr. Barmek.

“Hero’s Welcome special, coming up!” called Jaltor. As Penshek reached for his wallet, Mr. Barmek stopped him.

“No need for that!” he yelped. “It’s on the house!”

“I insist. You need the money more than I do,” countered Penshek. Mr. Barmek was about to object, then he remembered a Goblin proverb, “Never refuse a gift from the Grand Treasurer.” He accepted the money and they all sat at a table.

“Daddy’s a great admirer of yours,” Bashoon revealed.

“Are you, now?” chuckled Penshek.

“Yes,” confirmed Mr. Barmek. “I’ve read stories about your accomplishments. Your negotiation of the Togoo Pass, your liquidation of the False Guard, your confrontation with Rellmeer...”

“All that I’ve done pales in comparison to what I’m about to do,” interrupted Penshek. “I’ve requested this ship so you and they may help me on my Quest.”

“Your Quest?” asked Mrs. Barmek. “You mean, like an actual capital ‘Q’ Quest?”

“Exactly!” confirmed Penshek. “I am on a Quest for the most revered icon in Goblin history! An icon that predates the Imperium!”

“Er, Mr. Tolshoon,” gulped Bashoon.

“An icon more sacred than the Hat of Gold!” continued Penshek.

“Penshek!” hissed Denstra.

“More revered than Stangell’s Gloves! More coveted than the Chancellor’s Robes of Office!” Penshek went on.

“...The Scale Sword of Yunshul?!” gasped Bashoon’s parents.

“The same!” confirmed Penshek.

“You told us not to tell anyone!” reminded Arsha.

“They guessed!” replied Penshek.

“HEY! Hero’s Welcome special for Penshek! It’s getting cold here!” called Jaltor. Mr. Barmek yelped and dashed to the counter to retrieve the meal. When he returned, he had an apologetic smile. Penshek’s smile was one of understanding.

“I forgot about it too,” he replied. “No apologies needed.” As he wound his spaghetti with his fork, he continued. “I know where the sword rests. Think of the glory! The honor of finding the sword of the first Goblin that took up arms and successfully defended Dwelga!”

“Lost since before the First Age of Unity!” sighed Mrs. Barmek as she imagined the fame that would come with such a find. “Its return would change Goblin history!”

“If you know where it is,” called Mr. Barmek, “we MUST return it!”

“We?” asked Penshek. Mr. Barmek sensed the impropriety of his assumption and corrected himself.

“It would be an honor to join your Quest, if you’ll have me,” he explained.

“We could use his keen eyes,” mused Arsha.

“His eyes and the eyes of his wife and daughter!” declared Penshek. “I would have all three Barmeks! Besides, on top of their keen eyes and stout hearts being useful, having them return the Sword would annoy the Old Guard! They would have no choice but to call the Barmeks ‘heroes’!” He then took a bite of his meal and hummed his approval.

“To see the Scale Sword returned to our people,” sighed Mrs. Barmek, “I would give my soul for that chance!”

“They’ll write Profit Poems for centuries!” urged Penshek after he swallowed. “Children will sing our names for millennia! Our golden busts will be on the Wall of Heroes for all eternity!”

“Before you decide on an expression for those busts,” interjected Denstra, “we need to find the sword first. What makes you think it still exists?”

“This!” declared Penshek as he pulled a piece of cloth out of his pocket. He laid it on the table. “There. You see?” asked Penshek.

“I’ve got a Neko’s movement-only vision,” replied Denstra. “Anything standing still is just blurry. What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“The imprint on the cloth,” urged Penshek.

“Yes!” realized Bashoon. “This was the shroud that held the Scale Sword of Yunshul!”

“Don’t be so sure,” countered Arsha. “You could carpet the entire ship with all the ‘authentic shrouds’ that people tried to peddle over the Ages.”

“No one tried to peddle this! It was given to me!” insisted Penshek.

“By whom?” asked Arsha.

“I’ll tell you, Bashoon, and your entire Senior Staff once we get underway!” promised Penshek. “Right now, I need you to confirm its authenticity!”

“All right,” declared Arsha. “I’ll have Elmar look it over in the morning.”

“Why not now?!” protested Bashoon.

“Right now,” replied Arsha, “the ship’s refueling as well as taking the Engineer’s test and I need to check up on her. You, Penshek, need some rest.”

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed Penshek. “As soon as I finish my meal. May you be forever wealthy!”

“May you be forever wealthy,” bid Arsha as she and Denstra got up. Penshek then turned to the Barmeks.

“Imagine the look on the Chancellor’s face when we present the sword to him!” he chuckled. The Barmeks joined in his laughter.

* * *

Denstra stopped by her quarters while Arsha arrived at Endea’s door. She rang the chime. “Come in,” called Endea’s tired voice. Arsha entered the room to see Endea lying faceup on the bed.

“How was it?” asked Arsha as she pulled up a chair.

“Long, tedious, brain-wrecking,” replied Endea.

“Oh dear,” sighed Arsha.

“I don’t want to go through that torture again!” groaned Endea.

“So...you didn’t...?” asked Arsha, fearing the worst.

“Oh, no, I got 14 out of 15 right,” replied Endea as she pointed to her computer screen. Arsha looked at the results as a congratulations message looped.

“Well done, Endea!” cheered the instructor. “Only one answer wrong? That’s impressive! You’ll definitely go far! Congratulations, you have proven that you are worthy of being an Engineer with the rank of Lieutenant!”

“Congrats!” cheered Arsha. “Has Thangred been told this yet?”

“Not yet,” replied Endea. “I’ll tell him after my nap.”

“All right,” affirmed Arsha. “Then, after you tell him, I need you to prepare for a Quest.”

“You got it,” confirmed Endea as she flopped onto the bed, then shut her eyes and snored. Arsha crept quietly out of the room and shut the door to let Endea rest.


	19. Chapter 19

The day of the Quest’s start had finally arrived. Penshek was in the Conference Room with the Senior Staff, the Barmeks, and Endea. “What’s the deal behind this sword?” asked Marshii.

“Only that it was the first weapon a Goblin used!” replied Bashoon. Marshii then arched an eyebrow at her. “...Ma’am,” gulped Bashoon as she sensed the impropriety of her outburst.

“When the Under-realm was more savage,” explained Penshek, “Goblins were less brave. We were cowardly when we sought gold and we had amassed quite a pile for ourselves. That only encouraged bandits to take our gains. Over time, a Goblin named Yunshul declared that he had enough, so he forged the Scale Sword and used it in preemptive strikes against bandit colonies. This led to war and Yunshul led the Goblins to a victory so grand, his golden bust was the first on the Wall of Heroes. That was around the time we became more bolder and observed how markets worked. He was the very Goblin that became the first Chancellor of the Imperium. Unfortunately, when he died, his sword was stolen and the Imperium has been looking for it ever since. Our ancestors sent out searches across the Under-realm to find it, but we were interrupted in our search by the Great Realm War. We were once convinced that Other-realmers had stolen it, so we joined the Under-realm Armies to find it. We still look for it to this day.”

“But you claim to know where it is,” remarked Thengo.

“Elmar, what did your analysis of the cloth tell you?” asked Arsha.

“There were trace amounts of telkanite,” reported Elmar, “eludiminium, and Dragon Sapphires on the shroud. Those materials would have been used for a sword of that era. The design also matches records of shroud designs of that time.”

“Then the question becomes,” mused Thangred, “where did it come from?”

“An agent of mine got it from its resting place,” explained Penshek. “He found it on an island between the Central and Northern Continents of the Under-realm.” He pointed to an island off of the Central Continent’s northernmost tip, where Dwelga lived.

“That just increases the danger,” muttered Arsha.

“What makes you say that?” asked Penshek.

“The island directly between Dwelga’s northern reach and Frigandor,” explained Arsha, “the one directly east of our destination, that’s where Reb Rojam and her pirate fleet lives.”

“I don’t think we have too much to worry about,” replied Denstra. “As most of you have learned by now, I used to be the Chief Engineer of Reb’s old flagship. She never believed the legend of the Scale Sword. Any Goblin that tried to make that Quest, she shot them.”

“Wow, she REALLY inspires her crew,” muttered Endea.

“In any event,” continued Arsha, “stealth will have to be the word around here as we go on this journey.”

“If pirates are involved, most certainly,” agreed Penshek. “I’ve heard other tales about the Scarlet Stream pirates; tales that say they leave no survivors.”

“...Then where do the stories come from?” asked Bashoon. Penshek opened his mouth, then shut it as he realized what Bashoon was talking about.

“In any case, those tales don’t scare me!” declared Arsha.

“Or me!” affirmed Endea.

“I ain’t backing down from this!” called Thangred. This was the general declaration of everyone in the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” announced Arsha, “we need to plan a flight path that avoids the pirates. Mr. Nazay, recommendations?”

“The way I see it,” replied Nazay, “the shortest way, and the riskiest, is to go north-west to the island in a straight-line, but that’s a good way for Reb’s fleet to intercept us. Another route is to skirt between the Western Continent and the island, but, while less likely, that’s also a potential pirate route. The only option, while fuel intensive, is to go to the island between Dwelga’s southern shore and Crelima City’s northeastern shore, then go over Crelima city and travel up the Western Continent until we get to the northern edge, then to the island north of the continent, then island hop southeast across the islands between the Northern and Western continents until we reach our destination.”

“Then we NEED to make sure,” suggested Thangred, “that all mana reserves and food and water supplies are topped off if we go to Crelima City. Our port of call will need to be the Realmfleet base at the city’s northern border. I don’t feel I should remind you all about how much of the Western Continent is nothing but sandy deserts.”

“That still leaves the return journey to Dwelga,” remarked Endea. “If we go directly south from the island, we’re sure to encounter Reb and her ilk and I won’t have enough mana to get us through a fight nor take the long way around again.”

“No, but the Northern Continent has the closest port of call to resupply,” replied Nazay. “After that, we can take the safe route from the Northern Continent to Dwelga that avoids pirates and we’ll be good to go.”

“Then we need to spend a few days going over the plan,” declared Arsha. “While I understand this is a crucial mission to the Imperium, we cannot afford to meet any enemies. I don’t need to tell you all how stealth is key. Starting the instant we walk out of this room; we need to make preparations. Let’s make it happen.”

* * *

Dr. Borg opened her eye, rubbed it, and stretched as much as she could with her cybernetics removed. Even her prosthetic eye was gone. She smacked her lips, then discovered a taste that was unpleasant. After that, she got a faraway look. “...I wonder if that taste IS the result of a burp dying before escaping during the night,” she pondered aloud. “How would one conduct empirical research on that topic? ...Meh, an experiment for another day.” She beat her wings and flew to a keypad, keying in a code that revealed a machine that maintained her limbs while she slept. Her cybernetics were reattached as her eye was handed to her. She set it into her empty eye-socket and restored her depth perception, along with the eye’s other functions. After her limbs were tested, she landed back on solid ground and made her way to the mess hall. Once there, she noticed Yulduk doing something with a pencil and paper. “Good morning, General Yulduk,” she called. Yulduk looked up to give her his attention.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“What are you planning?” asked Dr. Borg.

“A little Revenant recruitment drive,” replied Yulduk. “Scorpo and I found five torpedoes resting just five pors off of Reb Rojam’s stronghold, Realmfleet burial torpedoes. I wonder if the corpses inside would be preserved enough to make more Revenants.”

“Worth investigating,” remarked Dr. Borg. “So you’re drawing up plans to investigate?”

“Bingo,” replied Yulduk.

“Then submit them once you’re finished,” directed Dr. Borg.

“You got it,” confirmed Yulduk. Just then, the intercom rang.

“Southern Outpost to Dr. Borg,” called Jansha.

“Go ahead,” answered Dr. Borg.

“The _Black Money_ has been spotted and isn’t answering our hails,” reported Jansha.

“The _Black Money_?!” snarled Yulduk.

“Reb’s probably noticed I stole some of the Breath,” mused Dr. Borg. “All hands to battle stations!” The alarm sounded and everyone took their posts at the southern part of the island. “Have we made any further attempts to contact them?” Dr. Borg asked Jansha.

“I’ve been continually hailing them,” replied Jansha, “but they aren’t replying.”

“She may want to talk to Dr. Borg herself,” remarked Tormo.

“A likely theory,” agreed Dr. Borg. “Open hailing frequencies one last time.”

“Frequencies open,” reported Jansha.

“Madam Rojam,” called Dr. Borg, “I presume your quarrel is with me. Kindly respond.”

“Happily!” snarled Reb Rojam’s voice. “Like an under-handed THIEF, you stole a sample of the Breath from my PERSONAL vaults!”

“I needed it for my own purposes,” replied Dr. Borg.

“Either way, you OWE me!” declared Reb. “Come out and face me or your PATHETIC base is leveled!”

“I think you’ll find,” remarked Dr. Borg, “my base is FAR from pathetic. Right now, I have 80,000 torpedoes and 5,000 mana-cannons aimed in your direction! If you don’t believe me, then have a scan and see that I’m not lying.” The base was bathed in green light for a few seconds before Melgem gave a response.

“This is an illusion,” he scoffed, “created by thaumic fields.”

“Take it from me,” replied Yulduk, “Dr. Borg’s technological prowess is no illusion!”

“...Why are you responding with a voice sample from Galthar’s old Collector?” asked Melgem.

“Meet your opponent at the beachhead and find out!” challenged Dr. Borg.

* * *

Melgem stood where the water continually washed onto the beach. He was still puzzling out why he heard Yulduk’s voice. Reb was on the sand, not wanting to risk the water washing away her slime. Dr. Borg then flew to them and landed with the usual grace of a Sprite, despite her mechanical limbs. “A weak fluttering creature is my opponent?” scoffed Melgem.

“Hardly, I’m fighting your wife before I deal with your corpse,” replied Dr. Borg.

“I’m not dead,” reminded Melgem.

“Give it time,” replied Yulduk’s voice as he jumped out of the trees and assumed a ready stance.

“...I could have SWORN I...” gasped Reb.

“Stabbed me in the head?!” snarled Yulduk. “You did! I remember it quite vividly!”

“Then how are you walking?” asked Melgem. “Come to think of it, how are you not roaring ‘Brains!’ over and over?”

“You assume I’m a Zombie!” growled Yulduk.

“Well, what else could you...” Melgem’s voice trailed as he formed a theory. “...No...no, that’s not possible! All of that black research was destroyed!”

“My ancestors worked on that project,” called Dr. Borg. “Did you think they wouldn’t make backups of their written work? Their proven and disproven theories, the steps they took to achieve their results, the hypotheses and conclusions, they were ALL copied several times over!”

“Melgem, sweetie, what ARE you two talking about?” asked Reb.

“Elves and Fae once theorized that there could be a way to bring the dead back to life and restore their minds,” explained Dr. Borg. “Eventually, they created such a beast, but at the cost damage to the creators’ souls. When I recovered that research, I made my own theory. If the soul could have a patch applied, the creator can make more and restore the damage done to their soul. I created a device that digitized my soul and made me a new body in the event of death. With that completed, I need to see if the device could apply a patch to my soul in the event of damage. With Yulduk’s resurrection, I proved that theory!”

“As an added bonus,” continued Yulduk, “I was given the means to make more of me! Reb, I suppose I should thank you! If you didn’t kill me, I would never have gotten this opportunity! You look upon Revenant 2.0!”

“The only way that the prototype Revenant was made,” yelped Melgem, “was to talk to Oyed, the Dark Father! Dr. Borg, you’ve reduced yourself to being the Destroyer’s slave!”

“He has promised me,” dismissed Dr. Borg, “the opportunity of making an eternal empire and I see no need to disregard him. He may be many things, but a liar is NOT one of them!”

“You’re not trying to start that RIDICULOUS Final War, are you?!” shrieked Reb.

“As a matter of fact, yes!” confirmed Dr. Borg. “When it ends, the Final Age of Unity will begin! Both the Divine Ones and Oyed could see it and I see no reason to disregard that prophecy!”

“So where does our fight fit in to your grand design?” demanded Melgem.

“It doesn’t,” replied Dr. Borg. “Yulduk just needs some stress relief.”

“Oh?” quizzed Melgem.

“Let’s just say,” replied Yulduk, “I’ve got issues with you siding with Reb instead of your best friend.”

“My wife takes priority, as does the fleet,” dismissed Melgem.

“Then you will be martyred!” snarled Yulduk.

“Very well, then,” declared Melgem. “I hereby invoke the All-Elf Rules of...” Yulduk didn’t give him the chance to finish his invocation. He cartwheeled towards him, flinging a fireball with his feet at Melgem’s face, then delivered swift punches to his opponent’s ribs before throwing a haymaker that knocked Melgem into the water.

“He was invoking combat rules!” called Reb.

“Yulduk saw no need for rules,” chuckled Dr. Borg. Melgem tried to get up, spitting out water in the attempt, but was punched in the face repeatedly until he fell beneath the water. He tried to get up again, but Yulduk held him down by the neck. Melgem soon realized what was going on and panicked, thrashing around in the water, trying to get Yulduk to let go so he could breathe. Yulduk paid no attention, he just laughed as he held Melgem underwater, bent on drowning his former friend. Just then, Melgem’s fist ran straight between Yulduk’s legs and slammed into his privates, crushing them. Originally, Yulduk thought his new Revenant status made him immune to pain. He was proven wrong as he doubled over, his hands over his crotch as he cried out in pain. Melgem finally got up out of the water and took in a huge breath before using his natural Sea Elf abilities over water to make water balls slam into Yulduk’s head. Yulduk then grabbed Melgem’s arm and projected a blade of fire before swinging it through Melgem’s arm, causing the wound to cauterize as he threw the rest of the arm to the sea. Melgem howled in pain as he clutched his stump. Yulduk then grabbed Melgem’s leg and cut it off, then held Melgem by the shirt as he threw the leg away and then tore Melgem’s eye out.

“And, with that,” declared Yulduk, “my revenge is complete. You ruined me, so I ruined you!” He then threw Melgem to Reb. Reb caught him and laid him down while she cast a slow healing spell. Reb then stood up, compressed her slime into its suit form, and charged at Yulduk, her cutlass flashing in the sunset. Yulduk caught it, then snapped her arm. She collapsed, clutching her arm in pain as she screamed.

“What’s next?” asked Dr. Borg.

“An exchange,” replied Yulduk. “The Scarlet Stream pirates want their commanders back; they need to give us the burial torpedoes. If they don’t, then Reb and Melgem return to their pirates in a box.”

“Take them to the dungeons,” ordered Dr. Borg. “I’ll transmit the message.” Yulduk grabbed his prisoners and dragged them through the island's forest while Dr. Borg gave the message.


	20. Chapter 20

The _Endeavor_ made its way to Crelima City, a Naga dwelling like the Regatim Oasis, only much larger. Topping off supplies was going to take some time. Endea drummed her fingers at her new workstation in Main Engineering. Her assignment was to monitor the progress of the spare mana tanks as they filled. It was a long, tedious assignment, one where people nearly fell asleep at their station. Endea’s eyelids drooped a few times before she started slapping herself in the face. When she finished, she stared at her screens harder with eyes more widely open. A futile effort as her eyelids were drooping again. “Dull assignment?” asked a voice.

“You have no...” Endea’s sleepiness vanished as she trailed off. The voice didn’t belong to any member of the crew. She turned her chair to see a genie that seemed to have an affinity for purple, right up to the bow in her hair. “How did you get in here?!” demanded Endea.

“I’m Maska Launidar,” replied the genie.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” barked Endea.

“Sure, it does,” giggled Maska.

“No, it really...why am I still talking to you?” Endea grabbed her communicator and made a call. “Security, report to Main Engineering! We have an intruder!” Dalengor and her security team wasted no time in getting to Main Engineering. The team leveled their wands at Maska.

“Surrender your vessel, Genie!” snarled Dalengor.

“I’m unbound,” replied Maska. “Besides, I need to speak with Arsha at once!”

“You can do so in your brig cell!” growled Dalengor.

“Peace, Lieutenant Commander Mardem,” called another voice. A portal had opened and allowed Rellmeer and Rokalla to step into Main Engineering. “Ms. Launidar is here at our behest,” continued Rellmeer. “What she discovered is grave indeed.”

* * *

Arsha drummed her fingers on the conference room’s table. Her hairpiece was removed and just sitting on the table. “My guest has a quest to complete,” she grumbled. “I would have preferred that I suffered no interruptions.”

“I’m afraid your quest for the Scale Sword must be completed with all haste,” urged Rellmeer.

“Why?” asked Arsha. “Haste will only bring us into the path of Reb and her ilk and I’m still not over the Galthar incident.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about her intercepting you,” replied Rokalla. “What Dr. Borg is doing to her is far more horrible.”

“...Is Reb being held hostage by her?” quizzed Arsha.

“Dr. Borg is currently holding her for ransom,” explained Maska. “She demands the burial torpedoes you launched after your first encounter with Reb.”

“What kind of ghoulish experiments would she want with them?!” gulped Arsha.

“Revenant creation,” replied Rellmeer.

“But...but that research was destroyed long ago!” argued Arsha.

“From what I overheard, when Reb and Melgem encountered Dr. Borg and her new Revenant,” continued Maska, “one you and Denstra should be familiar with. Tell me, does the name ‘Yulduk’ mean anything?”

“Galthar’s former Collector!” gasped Arsha. “He’s Dr. Borg’s Revenant?!”

“And she intends to make more out of those five that died last year,” finished Rellmeer. “Maska needs a map.”

“Computer, pull up a map of the Under-realm,” Arsha commanded the computer. A map appeared on the screen and Maska got it to zoom in on an island.

“Right there,” she declared as she pointed to the island. “That’s where Dr. Borg’s base is.”

“But that’s where the Scale Sword’s supposed to be!” yelped Arsha. Just then, Penshek ran into the room.

“Captain, my spies in the Imperium have terrible news!” he called. “Dr. Borg’s beaten us to it! She’s arranged a deal with the Imperium! She’ll deliver the Sword if the Imperium joins her!”

“I’ve just heard other bad news related to that,” muttered Arsha. “All right, the long way is no longer a viable option. We need to leave NOW!” She then activated ship-wide communications. “All hands, duty uniforms on. Assume battle stations. We’re going to the Scale Sword’s resting place at once.” The alert rang through the ship as various crew members teleported themselves to their quarters and changed their outfits to their duty uniforms. When Arsha arrived at her quarters, Gorfanth and Foresna immediately started asking questions.

“Aren’t we taking the long way around?!” asked Foresna.

“What about Reb’s pirates?!” quizzed Gorfanth.

“They’ll be too busy trying to free Reb and Melgem from Dr. Borg’s clutches,” replied Arsha as she ducked behind a changing screen. As her dress was draped over the screen, she continued talking. “Dr. Borg’s taken them hostage and found the Scale Sword before we did. She’s using it as a bargaining chip to gain the Imperium’s loyalty.”

“She’s only, what, three strong?” asked Foresna.

“Four, since she’s been reported to have a Revenant,” corrected Arsha.

“...I’m sorry, a WHAT?!” yelped Foresna.

“I thought that research was destroyed!” continued Gorfanth.

“The people on that project backed up their research for someone to find,” explained Arsha as she retrieved her duty uniform from the table near the screen. “And this particular Revenant was Galthar’s collector. You know, the one that got greedy and helped, in a twisted way, bring Endea into the world.”

“Well, I don’t know about you,” muttered Foresna, “but I seem to recall that Revenant creation requires talking to Oyed the Dark Father.”

“I’m not letting his evil influence spread over the Realms!” growled Gorfanth. “”When we hit the island, I’m hitting the Revenant! I’ll dash his head against the...!”

“You two,” interrupted Arsha, “are civilians. This is a Realmfleet matter. You’re staying out of the inevitable fight.”

“With all due respect, Arsha,” argued Gorfanth, “no, we’re not.”

“Dr. Borg’s probably building an army of Revenants,” continued Foresna. “She’ll use them to attack our homes. We’re joining you in a preemptive strike against her.” Arsha finally stepped out from behind the screen in her duty uniform.

“There’s no talking you two out of this, is there?” she muttered as she set her hairpiece on the table. Gorfanth and Foresna shook their heads. Arsha sighed. “...There are civilian duty uniforms in my closet. Go put them on, then join the other civilian fighters on Deck 36 for combat preparations.” With that, she left her quarters and made her way to the bridge. “Report,” she called.

“All reserves are topped off,” reported Thangred.

“All decks are standing by,” continued Shalvey.

“Nazay,” commanded Arsha, “get us out of here, all available speed.”

“All available speed,” repeated Nazay as the _Endeavor_ left Crelima City.

* * *

“Pirate fleet inbound,” Jansha reported to Dr. Borg.

“Hail them,” ordered Dr. Borg. Jansha complied and a channel opened. Rochak appeared on the screen.

“We have your burial torpedoes,” he called.

“Then Reb and Melgem shall be released into your care,” declared Dr. Borg.

“Actually, the members of this fleet have a better idea,” interjected Rochak.

“...I advise against double-crossing me,” warned Dr. Borg.

“We’re not doing anything like that,” assured Rochak. “Weltam and I would like to talk to you in person.” Dr. Borg considered her next move for a bit.

“...Meet me and Yulduk at the beach,” she finally decided.

“See you there!” promised Rochak.

* * *

Dr. Borg and Yulduk came out of the jungle and found Rochak and Weltam standing by 13 burial torpedoes. Only five were of Realmfleet design. “What’s all this?” asked Dr. Borg.

“We have more people for you to make Revenants out of,” purred Weltam.

“I DO need the numbers,” remarked Dr. Borg. “Few things come without a price. What do you want of me?”

“Positions in your empire, that’s what our little fleet wants,” explained Rochak.

“...Has Reb wronged you in any way?” asked Yulduk.

“Every time one of us raises an objection, she just shoots us in the head!” snapped Weltam. “This has been going down since Galthar!”

“We want our friends back and we want a new boss!” continued Rochak. “You seem to be able to provide on both counts!”

“...We DO need the soldiers now,” mused Yulduk.

“And having pirates like these on our side,” considered Dr. Borg, “WOULD give us supply routes.”

“Well?” asked Rochak.

“...You’re right,” chuckled Dr. Borg. “Your deal is sweeter than mine. Let’s talk about your positions in my empire.”

* * *

Reb’s arm was finally healed after chanting healing spells for over an hour. Her cell was separate from Melgem’s, just directly across from his. The stumps that were once his limbs still had their burns from Yulduk’s fire blades. The bleeding from his now empty eye-socket had stopped. Reb finally moved towards her cell door. “Melgem, sweetie?” she called across the hall.

“You never realize what a gift depth perception is until you lose it,” sighed Melgem. Reb’s heart stung. Her husband was feeling deeply sorry for himself and feeling utterly useless.

“Maybe...maybe I can get a message to Realmfleet,” suggested Reb.

“In hopes of asking someone for help?” muttered Melgem. “They won’t help pirates.” Just then, Reb’s communicator chimed. “...I thought they confiscated that,” muttered Melgem.

“Handy having a most DELIGHTFUL symbiote slime on your person,” chuckled Reb. She checked who was calling and her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s Arsha!”

“How’d she get your number?!” yelped Melgem.

“Does it matter?!” argued Reb as she accepted the call.

“Greetings, Admiral Rojam,” came Arsha’s voice.

“‘Greetings’?!” snapped Reb. “Arsha, what kind of VILE menace did you bring to the Realms?! First, you make me lose a chance to get a most HANDSOME profit on your safe return to Realmfleet! Then, you cause Mechanicas to spread everywhere, filling their heads with the most DREADFUL lie that they’re NOT servants! Now, Dr. Borg’s got my husband and I as her hostages! Who does that CLOD think she is?! She’s not acting like a member of Realmfleet if she’s making Revenants!”

“She’s not a member of Realmfleet, I promise you,” assured Arsha. “She has some sort of plan in the works that will bring down Realmfleet. I’d wager it involves talking to Oyed in some fashion.”

“She’s threatening to start the Final War,” replied Reb, “and managed to get a group of MY men to her side half an hour ago! MY OWN MEN!”

“We’re preparing an attack plan,” Arsha went on, “and will try to stymy her efforts as best we can.”

“More to the point,” interjected Reb, “can you break us out and get Melgem medevac’d so he can have his GRIEVOUSLY missing parts replaced? Dr. Borg’s prototype Revenant, Yulduk, HEINOUSLY robbed my husband of an arm, leg, and eye!”

“There’s nothing we can do about your men,” replied Arsha, “but we can certainly get Melgem the necessary prosthetics so he can help you deal with them while we deal with Dr. Borg and her compatriots.”

“Then we have an accord,” declared Reb. “I’ll deal with my men; you deal with that LUNATIC cyborg sprite!”

“We’re 10 minutes out,” finished Arsha. “Try and hold out for that long.” The call ended.

“Well, it looks like I was proven wrong,” chuckled Melgem. “Realmfleet IS helping us, after a fashion.”

“Now, you and I, my GORGEOUS hubby,” purred Reb, “need to plan how we’ll hold out for about 10 minutes.”

“I’d argue the ‘gorgeous’ claim, given my current appearance,” mused Melgem, “but we’ll debate that AFTER we get out of this.”


	21. Chapter 21

The _Endeavor_ finally arrived at the island and held position in its airspace. The plan was simple at first glance, but required the tightest of communication. Arsha would lead one team to distract Dr. Borg and her allies, Marshii would lead a medical team to get Melgem and Reb to the relative safety of the _Endeavor_ , and Penshek would lead a team to get the Scale Sword out of its hiding place. Arsha’s team teleported to the island’s rocky northern shores. The rocks were large and offered little comfort. The team took up positions for an ambush, mental communications only. “Arsha,” Foresna called over the mental frequency, “you do realize Dr. Borg’s most likely intercepted your transmission to Reb, right?”

“It’s probable,” replied Arsha’s thoughts. “In fact, I’m counting on it.” Right on cue, Dr. Borg and Yulduk came up the steady slope. “There you are,” Arsha purred to herself.

“Might as well come out,” Dr. Borg called. “We know you’re here.”

“I would have been insulted if you didn’t,” replied Arsha. She gave a hand-signal for everyone to hold their position. “So, what’s Oyed promising you?”

“That’s between me and him,” dismissed Dr. Borg. “You have bigger concerns.”

“Like what?” scoffed Arsha.

“Like us, for starters!” called another voice. At that moment, five people revealed themselves from vantage points higher than anyone on Arsha’s team. They were a female Naga, a male Ice Elf, a male Cecaelia, a female Slime, and a male human. They all had one thing in common; they had the same ashen skin and blue veins of light as Yulduk. The only thing that indicated the Slime was a Revenant was her core having the same veins as a Revenant.

“I believe you know these Revenants,” chuckled Dr. Borg. “Eltan Sontor, Sheendii Eltraa, Drelta Meltrek, Blenter Ansii, and Entran Deltar, the people who died under your command during your first encounter with Reb Rojam.”

“Yeah, I remember them,” snarled Arsha. “I also remember their funeral, you ghoul!”

“A worthless effort!” burbled the Slime, Blenter. “All you did was put on a show and give the illusion that you would remember us!”

“Your deaths still haunt me!” argued Arsha.

“Do they?!” hissed the human, Entran. “Or is that what you tell yourself to help you keep up appearances?!”

“Tell us,” demanded the Cecaelia, Drelta, “did you actually look our families in the eye as you told them we wouldn’t be coming home or did you simply take the coward’s way out and write condolence letters?!”

“I understand you blame me,” interjected Arsha, “but I made sure you were immortalized! To answer the question, I both wrote letters AND explained your deaths in person!”

“You still considered the coward’s way out!” accused the Naga, Eltan. “Just know this, THIS is what your future will be!” She gestured to herself. “You will die and it will all be because of Realmfleet!”

“Our future has the potential of being tragic,” interjected Foresna, “but it’s not going to be Realmfleet’s fault! You’ve all been warped by Oyed and Dr. Borg’s evil!”

“I guess Arsha never told you HOW we died,” snarled the Ice Elf, Sheendii. “A pirate ran his sword through my chest! A member of the _Endeavor_ saw it and did NOTHING!”

“I would have executed Yotek!” boasted Eltan. “But Oak wanted the glory! He held me back and allowed me to be cut down by Under-Splitter Golems!”

“No!” declared Foresna. “I don’t believe that!”

“One day,” proclaimed Blenter, “Realmfleet WILL fail you! Then, you will believe!” Arsha looked around before deciding on the next move.

“FIRE ON THE ROCKS!” she called. Everyone fired magic blasts at the rocks above them, making the Realmfleet Revenants lose balance and tumble with the rocks as Arsha and her team got away. The Revenants regrouped and attacked Arsha’s team with Eltan making her way to Arsha. Arsha raised her hands in a defensive manner as Eltan assumed a Naga’s combat stance. “You spew Oyed and Dr. Borg’s lies!” snarled Arsha. “You believe yourself to be a savior when, in reality, all you’re doing is helping that pure-blooded Sprite enslave the Realms!”

“Who’s a pure-blood?!” shouted Dr. Borg as she joined Eltan. “My bloodline is blended, thank you! And you claim I’m enslaving the Realms?! I’m liberating us all from the shackles of limitations! How was I ever so blind as to believe that we need limits?!” She and Eltan then flanked Arsha and attacked! As they fought, more Revenants joined the fray. There’s one advantage the Undead have over the living; they never tire out. The Revenants still battled as Arsha’s team steadily became tired.

“Arsha, are we even doing anything?!” gasped Gorfanth.

“Just keep it up,” panted Arsha. “We need to show them that our way is the right way.”

“You’ll fail miserably in the attempt,” scoffed Dr. Borg as she continued the attack.

* * *

While the fight went on, Penshek led his team through the winding corridors of Dr. Borg’s base. “I can feel it! It’s this way!” whispered Penshek.

“That’s what you said in the last corridor!” hissed Bashoon. “And the one before that! Heck, you said that in EVERY corridor we’ve been down!”

“Well, do YOU have a better plan?!” snapped Penshek.

“Yes, actually,” replied Bashoon. “We use the base’s computer system to find the Scale Sword’s location!”

“And risk alerting everyone here?!” argued Penshek. As they argued, Elmar tapped Penshek’s shoulder and alerted him to a pirate rounding the corner. The pirate looked bleary-eyed, as if he just woke up from a nap. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and just shuffled down the corridor until he could see Penshek.

“Hey, who are you?” he asked, slurring his words.

“Er, we’re...uhm...” stammered Penshek.

“We’re new recruits!” supplied Bashoon. “We were told to report to where the Scale Sword was being held...”

“...but we got lost on the way!” finished Penshek.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just take a right down the hall behind me,” mumbled the pirate. The team thanked the pirate and began moving off...when the pirate slammed his hand on an alarm button! He guzzled the rest of his coffee and looked more alert. “How dumb do you think I am?!” he snapped more clearly.

* * *

Back at the fight with the Revenants, the communicator in Dr. Borg’s arm buzzed. She tapped it and got the intruder alert. “Stop!” she called to her Revenants. “We have intruders at the base!”

“But Arsha...!” protested Blenter.

“She’s the diversion!” realized Eltan.

“Round up the prisoners and bring them inside!” ordered Dr. Borg. One quick stun spell from the Revenants and Arsha and her team were knocked out.

* * *

“NEW RECRUITS?!” shouted Penshek as he and his team ran through the corridors of the base, trying to evade the soldiers.

“I WAS PANICKING!” replied Bashoon.

“CAN WE CONCENTRATE ON RUNNING RIGHT NOW?!” interjected Elmar. It was a good enough suggestion for the two Goblins, so everyone put their energies into their feet and legs. They dashed into a hangar and avoided the shots from the base’s inhabitants. Just then, Penshek whipped out his wand and fired on the rafters. They crashed all around the enemy and almost crushed Elmar and Bashoon!

“Sorry!” he called.

“STOP HELPING!” shouted Bashoon. While the enemy soldiers were trying to get around the rubble, Bashoon and her team found a good hiding place. The enemies then got around the rubble and tried to find them.

“Where are they?!” bellowed an Earth Dragon.

“They must have doubled back!” guessed an Elf.

“With me!” called a Centaur. The enemies left the hangar, leaving Bashoon and her team to pant alone.

“Boy, we sure did a lot of running,” gasped Bashoon.

“And as soon as we catch our breath,” panted Penshek, “we’re gonna be running some more!”

“Hopefully towards the Scale Sword,” muttered Elmar. He then noticed something. He gestured for the two Goblins to carefully follow him towards a door with a golden light emanating from a door near them. The door had a numerical keypad near it, so it was a safe bet to believe it was passcode protected. Penshek then produced a device and held it near the keypad. The device bathed the keypad in green light and exposed which numbers were the ones that had been pressed the most.

“Well, we know the numbers are 3, 4, and 7,” muttered Penshek. “Now, if only we knew what the sequence is.”

“Allow me,” offered Bashoon. “Time to try something Thangred and I cooked up.” She pulled out another device with a keypad, keyed in the digits, and then brought it near the door’s keypad. The new device bathed the keypad in blue light for three seconds, then displayed 734 on its screen. Bashoon then keyed in 734 on the door’s keypad and the door opened! “We’ve already got a contract with Realmfleet to make more of these for security reasons and covert operations,” chuckled Bashoon.

“Nifty little gadget!” praised Penshek. “I hope the contract’s good to both of you.”

“It is, Penshek, I assure you,” replied Bashoon. The three then entered the room and were stunned when they saw where the glow was coming from. The light was a forcefield that held a Goblin-sized sword with the hilt’s cross-guard styled to look like a set of balance scales.

“Is that...?” asked Elmar.

“It is!” breathed Penshek.

“The Scale-sword of Yunshul!” Bashoon confirmed in a reverent whisper. The two Goblins were about to make a grab for it before Elmar held them back.

“This is too easy,” he remarked.

“He’s right,” muttered Bashoon as she shook herself out of her trance. “There should be more defenses than this. The sword IS Dr. Borg’s bargaining chip.”

“Circle the room,” directed Elmar. “We’ll approach it from three different angles.” The Goblins nodded, then went slowly along the walls, their eyes darting all around to make sure they weren’t caught by surprise. The entire three-person team then crept forward towards the forcefield. Nothing happened yet.

“This makes no sense,” muttered Bashoon.

“Er, Ms. Barmek,” observed Penshek, “all of the pillars surrounding the forcefield have gold light for trim, right?” Bashoon then observed the three pillars and, while it was true that two of the pillars had gold light, one of them had red. As Bashoon looked closer at the pillars, a memory stirred...then a frightful image!

“SIR! GET BACK! THAT’S JANSHA!” she warned Elmar. Too late. The pillar Jansha used as her disguise fell off of her and she grabbed Elmar’s head before slamming him into the forcefield and knocking him out! The two Goblins then pulled out their knifes and set their wands into them. Jansha’s eye then glowed brighter until she fired a torrent of red light at them, a massive stun spell, knocking them out. Jansha shut off the spell and checked herself over. A couple of pirates entered the room.

“It’s all right,” she assured. “The sword’s still safe. We just have some morons to throw into the brig. Get them there.” The pirates nodded and took the prisoners to the brig while Jansha reported to Dr. Borg about the situation.


	22. Chapter 22

“Well, I must compliment you, Arsha,” chuckled Dr. Borg as both Arsha and Bashoon’s teams were brought to the control room. “I honestly didn’t expect a two-pronged attack. Still, your attempt to interfere with my deal with the Imperium was futile.”

“When the Imperium sees that you’ve interfered with a Quest that they’re funding,” snarled Penshek, “there will be no end to their vengeance!” Dr. Borg stared at him for a moment, then chuckled.

“The Chancellor’s fooled you well, hasn’t he?” she purred.

“...What?” asked Penshek.

“Get me the Imperium,” Dr. Borg ordered Eltan. The naga keyed in a command and the Goblin Chancellor appeared on the screen.

“Chancellor Torsko?” quizzed Arsha.

“Dr. Borg, I trust things are going well,” grunted Torsko.

“As well as can be expected,” replied Dr. Borg. “We have the Goblin you sent.”

“Excellent,” purred Torsko.

“Wait, I don’t understand,” muttered Penshek.

“...I thought you would have killed him by now,” growled Torsko.

“What’s all this about?!” demanded Penshek.

“A removal of a political rival,” replied Dr. Borg.

“You’ve been insulting my views for too damn long!” continued Torsko. “Why you side with rebel youngsters when the old ways still work, I’ll never understand!”

“But...but I don’t...” stammered Penshek.

“It’s all very simple,” explained Torsko. “Dr. Borg contacted me a while ago after finding the Scale-sword on her island. Her financier and a good friend of mine, Tormo, introduced me to her.”

“After we talked, I made him an offer,” continued Dr. Borg. “He would send a political rival on a Quest for the sword and I would dispose of said rival, earning a little extra money for my experiments. After all of his rivals are gone, I will give the Imperium a position in my empire as the main bankers.”

“And we won’t have to rely on Realmfleet for profits!” growled Torsko. “Ah, I see you have a member of the Barmek family with you.”

“You did all this to spite Realmfleet?!” snarled Bashoon.

“To spite YOU and your sibling-parents, actually,” hissed Torsko.

“You did NOT just call me the product of inbreeding!” snapped Bashoon.

“Why else would you preach the notion that the Imperium is diseased with its own power?!” argued Torsko.

“Trying to enslave the Trolls all over again?!” retorted Bashoon.

“When they served us, it was declared the height of our civilization!” growled Torsko.

“Slavery’s barbarism and you know it!” shouted Bashoon.

“Slavery’s been the backbone of all civilizations!” snarled Torsko. “Once Dr. Borg publicly gives the Scale-sword to me after all my rivals are dead, we’ll be funneling money to her for generations to come and I’ll retire easy!”

“So this whole thing is a retirement plan!” growled Arsha.

“I think Varshenta Beach will be a good place to retire,” chuckled Torsko. “The ladies love the money-men there.”

“You won’t get away with this!” hissed Arsha.

“Get that from _Dr. Snood_?” scoffed Torsko. He then gave his attention to Dr. Borg. “Penshek’s the last of my rivals.”

“Then I’ll deliver the Scale-sword to you once I finish up here,” promised Dr. Borg. “Borg out.” The call ended and Dr. Borg turned to Weltam. “Speaking of rivals, I believe Arsha should witness the execution of yours.”

“I’ll bring her up here,” replied Weltam.

“So you’re killing Reb too?” muttered Bashoon.

“Bring Melgem up here too,” Dr. Borg directed Weltam. “My newest theory is that his spirit will be broken worse than his body.”

“So, Reb first, then let Melgem give up on living before killing him,” guessed Weltam.

“That’s the plan for this behavioral experiment,” confirmed Dr. Borg.

“Coming up,” purred Weltam. She then sauntered off to the brig.

“When Realmfleet discovers what you did...!” snarled Arsha.

“Realmfleet is ineffective in keeping the major threats under control!” argued Dr. Borg. “You lot claim to be peacekeepers, yet the Splitters and scum like Reb still exist! The denizens of Domoroto were all kidnapped and raped for 50,000 years, yet the Mega-sharks all got a slap on the wrist by being forcibly relocated! I’m giving the Realms a permanent solution to evil!”

“Then why are you talking to Oyed?!” demanded Arsha.

“That’s for me to know and members of the Realm Trinity Empire to find out,” chuckled Dr. Borg. She then turned to the Revenants. “These are the last prisoners to be executed. Make sure their executions are recorded. After that, send the recordings to Realmfleet HQ.”

“Got it,” confirmed Yulduk.

* * *

Weltam keyed in an entry code for the brig and the door opened. “Oh, Reb!” she sang. “It’s time for your haircut! Now, the barber recommends going right below the neck and...WHAT THE?!” The cells were empty! Weltam opened them and cast a spell to determine if magic was used or is in use. The spell turned up nothing. “Of all the...!” snarled Weltam. She slammed her hand on an alarm button.

* * *

The alarm rang throughout the base. Dr. Borg determined its location to be from the brig. “Command Center to brig!” she called over the intercom. “What’s going on?!”

“Reb and Melgem have flown the coop!” replied Weltam.

“Are you sure?!” yelped Dr. Borg.

“Positive! I’ve checked their cells!” answered Weltam. “They ain’t here!”

“Thank you, Marshii,” chuckled Arsha.

“...Another diversion!” snarled Dr. Borg. “My security system really IS subpar! Everyone, find them!”

“You’ll fail in the attempt,” laughed Bashoon.

“Oh? Why, pray tell?” asked Dr. Borg.

“Because the _Endeavor_ ’s long left the island with Reb and Melgem being patched up by Marshii!” boasted Arsha.

* * *

“Scalpel,” Marshii directed the nurse.

“Scalpel,” replied the nurse as he handed the tool to Marshii. She took the tool and used it to cut the excess cast wrapping off of Reb’s arm.

“Success,” declared Marshii once she finished. She turned to the nurse. “Good work.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” replied the nurse.

“My GRACIOUS thanks as well, Doctor,” bid Reb. “I already feel my POOR bones coming back together. That UNHOLY brute, Yulduk, was so base that he WOULD hurt a lady!”

“I’d save the thanks for now,” advised Marshii.

“...Why?” asked Reb. The nurse then snapped his fingers and she vanished. “WHAT IN THE DEPTHS?!” shouted Reb’s voice outside the door. Marshii and the nurse stepped out of the brig’s infirmary and smirked as Reb and the cybernetically restored Melgem roared in their cells.

“Did you really think this opportunity WOULDN’T be exploited?” asked Marshii. “A chance to arrest the most notorious pirates in all the Realms? You bet we’re gonna take it!”

“I’LL PUNCTURE YOUR SWIM BLADDER FOR THIS, YOU DRIED-OUT MINNOW!” threatened Reb. “THEY CAN’T HOLD REBARISAL ROJAM, ADMIRAL OF THE SCARLET STREAM PIRATES!”

* * *

“All we need to do,” chuckled Arsha, “is to get the Scale-sword to Dwelga and upset your little potion-cart!”

“You won’t be able to do so when your head is cut off!” snarled Dr. Borg. “Yulduk, take them to the Execution Yards! We’ll show the Realms what happens to those that defy us!”

“Understood!” replied Yulduk. He turned to the other Revenants. “You lot, get them ready for...” he didn’t get far with his command as Eltan’s tail grabbed his waist and flung him into Dr. Borg! As they tried to pick themselves up, the Realmfleet Revenants undid the prisoners’ bonds.

“Orders, Captain?” asked Eltan.

“Get us to the Scale-sword!” ordered Arsha. “After that, we’ll all clear a path to the open and summon the _Endeavor_ for pickup!”

“Drelta, lead the way!” Eltan ordered Drelta. “I’ll bring up the rear!”

“Got it!” replied Drelta as he summoned a pair of ice blades. Eltan then slithered towards Dr. Borg and Yulduk.

“What is the meaning of this mutiny?!” demanded Dr. Borg.

“While we DID wish we could see our families one last time before we died,” hissed Eltan, “we gave our lives to protect them! We feigned rage towards Arsha! The thought of having died DOES sicken me, but I don’t blame Arsha for it! Her life was just as on the line as mine and she was willing to give it up if it meant the mission could succeed back then!”

“Yulduk, stay behind and deal with this traitor,” commanded Dr. Borg. “I’ll take a team with me to stop Arsha’s advance.”

“Understood,” replied Yulduk. He then got into a defensive stance as he faced Eltan. “The Revenant Spell was your chance to take revenge on those who left you behind! You OWE Dr. Borg!”

“You were convinced to join her after she brought you back!” snarled Eltan as the two combatants circled one another. “She needed to use her words! That’s never a guarantee that a Revenant will join her!”

“Ungrateful Shrew!” roared Yulduk. “Reborn to a new privilege which you throw away!”

“Privilege?! This?!” Eltan swept her hand over her tail and indicated the Revenant veins.

“You clearly never knew a life of failure!” replied Yulduk. “If you did, you would value the gift Dr. Borg gave you!”

“This is a curse, not a gift!” argued Eltan.

“I say it’s a blessing and a second chance!” roared Yulduk. He threw a pair of fireballs at her, but Eltan absorbed them and unleashed a torrent of flames at his feet.

* * *

“Just once,” Dr. Borg griped to herself, “I’d like things to be easy!” Her pursuit of Arsha and her group led her to the new room the Scale-sword was resting in. Bashoon had lowered the force-field already and Penshek was making a grab for it. “Back away from the sword!” demanded Dr. Borg. Penshek didn’t listen and grabbed the sword’s hilt, pulling it free from its bonds. “Disobedience on this scale is punishable by death!” snarled Dr. Borg as she flew at the team in a rage. Sheendii fired a blast of ice at her wings and knocked her to the ground.

“Get going!” urged Sheendii. “I’m undead right now! I’ll cover the escape!”

“I’m not leaving you again, Lieutenant Eltraa!” argued Arsha.

“With respect, Captain, you don’t have a say in the matter!” countered Sheendii. “Go! Now!”

“Arsha!” interjected Foresna. “We don’t have a choice!”

“...Withdraw!” called Arsha. Everyone ran as Sheendii fired ice blast after ice blast, slowing down the enemy forces.

* * *

Eltan had gotten her coils around Yulduk and slammed him repeatedly against a console, forcing him to fall unconscious. She let him drop to the floor and caught her breath. “I won’t be a slave to her cruelty,” Eltan declared. She then noticed Arsha’s team on the monitor making their way towards the exit. “Near enough,” declared Eltan as she keyed in a command to the power core.

“Warning. Warning,” droned the computer as an alarm sounded. “Reactor core contamination. Unable to purge. This base will self-destruct in three minutes.”

* * *

The announcement rang throughout the base. “Self-destruct?!” yelped a pirate.

“Unable to purge?!” wailed Jansha. “Mother, what do we do?!”

“...Evacuate the base,” declared Dr. Borg. “This venture is no longer worth pursuing.”

“Plunder Island Stronghold can accept you,” offered Rochak.

“With the amount of loyalists Reb has?!” argued Jansha.

“Had,” corrected Rochak. “The loyalists fled when we took over.”

“In that case, we accept your offer of asylum,” declared Dr. Borg.

* * *

Yulduk finally got up and shook his head to clear his headache. He heard the alarm and saw the status of the power core with everyone clearing out. He then put two and two together and snarled before dashing towards the exit.

* * *

The Realmfleet Revenants and Arsha’s people got outside as the inhabitants of the base continued with a ruthless evacuation of the base. “Okay, _Endeavor_ ,” called Arsha over a communicator, “we have the sword and we’re all here! We also have five new arrivals! Get us out of here!” Light surrounded everyone and they all ended up in the teleport room! The officers manning their stations saw the Revenants and leveled their wands at them. “Wait! Hold your fire! They’re friendlies!” The crewmembers arched their eyebrows in confusion. “Okay, we’ve got a story to tell you...” muttered Arsha.


	23. Chapter 23

Over in Dwelga, Torsko held a meeting of the Imperium Majestics, the main ruling body of the Goblin Imperium. The meetings usually consist of discussing the newest business opportunities discovered under Goblin Law. “Last, but certainly not least,” called Torsko as he wrapped up the meeting, “we must thank Twenshii for discovering a new mana-crystal source and securing it for Dwelga!” A Majestic woman bowed her head in respect. “I congratulate you all, ladies and gentlemen! Yearly profits are better than ever!” The Majestics pounded their fists on the table in self-congratulations. “However, there IS one cloud on the horizon, a cloud that none of us can get rid of easily, despite our best efforts. I’m not blaming anyone here, but it’s become clear to me that it’s becoming more and more hard to find truly lucrative opportunities here! Why? Because, no matter where we go, our reputation always precedes us! A reputation formed from the lies of our competitors!” The Majestics grumbled about this. “Competitors, like Reb Rojam, who maliciously spread the false impression that Goblins can’t be trusted!” The grumbling was more vocal. “But, there’s now a way to clear that error! You see, my intelligence network says that the Scarlet Stream Pirates have been disbanded and Reb Rojam has been finally arrested!”

“You mean...?!” breathed a male Majestic.

“Plunder Island Stronghold, ladies and gentlemen!” confirmed Torsko. “And the routes they took! We can use them for trade opportunities!”

“We can build a new reputation of using pirate territory for the betterment of society!” cheered Twenshii.

“My thoughts exactly!” replied Torsko. “It’ll be the good old days again!” There was much rejoicing at this bit of news as many Majestics started making plans. The session was interrupted by a massive knock on the room’s doors.

“...I ain’t expecting anyone,” muttered a Majestic. The doors then turned to splinters as Orbak and a contingent of soldiers swarmed the chambers.

“WHERE’S THAT PURE-BLOOD, TORSKO?!” roared Orbak. “HE’S MAKING DEALS WITH THE ENEMY! I WILL HAVE HIM EXECUTED!”

“King Orbak, my friend!” called Torsko. “What’s the meaning of this?!”

“Torsko, as the King of the entire Under-realm, I’m placing you under arrest for aiding and abetting the terrorist, Dr. Borg!” accused Orbak. “Arsha’s told me all about what your conversation with the good doctor entailed.”

“What in all the Realms are you talking about?!” yelped Torsko. “I never spoke with Dr. Borg!”

“LIES!” roared Penshek’s voice. Penshek, Bashoon, and Arsha then stormed in. Penshek stabbed the table with the Scale-sword, causing many Majestics to gasp in surprise.

“It cannot be!” breathed a man.

“It IS!” replied Penshek. “Realmfleet has authenticated it, as did Torsko’s friend, Dr. Borg!”

“That’s a spurious claim!” shouted Torsko. “I’ve never associated with her!”

“I’d like to believe that, I really would,” hissed Orbak, “but Eltan recorded the whole conversation between you and Dr. Borg!”

“After Eltan helped us escape,” continued Arsha, “we both gave the report to Realmfleet and Orbak.”

“Hold on, Eltan’s one of Dr. Borg’s Reve...” Torsko stopped himself too little, too late.

“Just a minute,” called a male Majestic, “were you about to say ‘Revenant’? Are you telling me Dr. Borg has a Revenant?!”

“How would you guess that?!” asked Twenshii. “...You didn’t make a deal with her, did you?!” Torsko said nothing.

“And it was all a bid to hide the fact that he’s clanless!” called a male Majestic.

“Yontrem!” yelped Torsko. “What are you doing?!”

“Reporting my findings to my employer, that’s what,” dismissed Yontrem.

“...A mercenary!” growled Torsko.

“I was hired to get information on you after you were declared Garsheek’s successor,” explained Yontrem. “Orbak knew there was something rotten in the Imperium, he just never figured it would be a clanless Goblin who was so afraid of being found out that he would be desperate enough to consort with terrorists and try to stifle any new opportunities with Realmfleet.”

“Realmfleet is the one that stifles us!” snapped Torsko. “On top of that, the fact that only those whose families are part of a clan can rule? That is nothing more than absurdity!”

“The reason for that is because profits can’t be sought out alone!” argued Arsha. “Not even mercenaries like Yontrem can seek it on our own! He had to get help to get this particular job from Orbak! Leaders would understand that there’s always a need for a safety net!”

“Past leaders, perhaps, but not modern ones!” countered Torsko.

“Enough!” called Twenshii. “You blind, ignorant fool! We ALL need a safety net! How else can we calculate risk?! Since you’re stupid enough to shoot yourself in the foot like this, we ALL order you to go with Orbak!”

“ _I_ give the orders, not you!” shouted Torsko. At that moment, the Majestics leveled their wands at him.

“Either you go with him or we execute you here and now!” growled Twenshii. Yontrem growled back, then sighed in defeat as he allowed Orbak’s soldiers to slap the cuffs on him.

“Just know this,” hissed Orbak, “I’ll be pushing for the maximum penalty for traitors like you!” He turned to his soldiers. “Take him away!” The soldiers took Yontrem to the prison carriage and drove off.

“The Imperium needs a complete overhaul,” sighed Twenshii.

“Perhaps the one who brought the Sword back can lead us,” mused another Majestic. Penshek goggled.

“Pardon me?!” he yelped.

“We need a new leader for a new era for the Imperium,” explained the Majestic.

“Penshek DID retrieve the Scale-sword,” mused a third.

“All those that would have Penshek Tolshoon promoted from Grand Treasurer to Chancellor of the Imperium, say ‘aye’,” called Twenshii.

“AYE!” declared a multitude of voices.

“All against, say ‘nay’,” directed Twenshii. No one said a word. “The vote’s unanimous. Penshek Tolshoon, step forward and take the Chancellor’s Oath.” She held out a book of the Imperium’s constitution. Penshek gulped before placing his left hand on the book and raising his right hand. “I, Penshek Tolshoon of the Tagnar Clan, do solemnly swear...”

“I, Penshek Tolshoon of the Tagnar Clan, do solemnly swear...” repeated Penshek.

“...that I will uphold the principles of the Goblin Imperium faithfully,” continued Twenshii.

“...that I will uphold the principles of the Goblin Imperium faithfully,” confirmed Penshek.

“I will advise the Imperium on how to seek profit...” Twenshii went on.

“I will advise the Imperium on how to seek profit...” replied Penshek.

“...even if the Guidelines must be thrown out,” Twenshii continued.

“...even if the Guidelines must be thrown out,” repeated Penshek.

“I now pronounce you the Chancellor of the Goblin Imperium!” called Twenshii. The Majestic pounded the table in congratulations, though some were a little sour at seeing a new Chancellor so quickly.

“My thanks,” called Penshek. “However, I must first clear some debts before I concentrate on the Imperium.”

“Debts?” asked Orbak.

“To Ensign Bashoon Barmek and her family,” explained Penshek.

“What debt do you owe us?” quizzed Bashoon, a little confused. Penshek pulled out a pad and keyed in something.

“There we go,” he declared. “Check your bank account.” Bashoon arched an eyebrow, then did so. Her eyes went wide.

“...Mom and Dad too?” she asked.

“My first act as Chancellor,” answered Penshek, “is to return what was wrongfully taken from you. Your family’s fortunes are restored. Let the name of Barmek be spoken of once again.”

“Congratulations, Ensign!” cheered Arsha.

“Th...thank you,” stammered Bashoon.

“Now, I need to speak with your father,” remarked Penshek. “Excuse me.” He left the chambers.

* * *

Penshek found Mr. Barmek outside the building, looking over a pad with his wife. They had just checked their bank account and were confused at the sudden increase of personal funds. He cleared his throat and the Barmeks turned to face him. “Grand Treasurer, can you help me make heads or tails of this?” requested Mr. Barmek.

“A sudden increase in your savings account?” chuckled Penshek.

“...How did you know?” asked Mr. Barmek.

“Let’s just say I was instrumental in getting your fortunes back to you,” replied Penshek.

“But...but how?!” asked Mrs. Barmek. “Only the Chancellor can do that! Last I checked, Torsko’s not gonna be one to restore our fortunes like that!”

“Torsko was arrested for consorting with Dr. Borg,” explained Penshek.

“Then, who’s the...you?!” realized Mrs. Barmek.

“No way!” gasped Mr. Barmek.

“After Torsko was taken by Orbak’s soldiers,” recalled Penshek, “I was drafted into the Chancellorship. I’ve just restored your original fortunes. Now, I must ask, which of you is head of the Barmek family?”

“I am,” replied Mr. Barmek. “Before we lost our fortunes, I’ve been trying to make deals into joining a clan, practically begging for a safety net..”

“You don’t need to resort to begging anymore,” chuckled Penshek. “You’ve raised a hero and such an act deserves a reward. Do you have your Family Ring?”

“Yes,” answered Mr. Barmek, confused. Penshek then drew out a small, ring-sized stamp. “...You’re joking!” breathed Mr. Barmek.

“I don’t make jokes that would be so cruel,” assured Penshek. “Korsak Barmek, for beginning a new era for seeking profit, the Tagnar Clan would be honored in having your family in our ranks, both as valuable money-makers and, most importantly, as friends.”

“...Chancellor Penshek Tolshoon,” declared Mr. Barmek, “I heartily accept this wondrous opportunity!” He held his ring out and Penshek pressed the stamp to it. The Barmeks were now part of a Clan! They then shook hands.

“May you be forever wealthy!” declared both Goblins.


	24. Chapter 24

“Your fortunes are restored?!” cheered Denstra once everyone returned to the _Endeavor_ and explained what happened.

“And the Barmeks are part of a Clan now?!” asked Endea.

“Yes to both,” answered Bashoon. “Now we’ve got a safety net if we’re ever in financial trouble again!”

“Could you explain why the Clans are so important?” asked Arsha.

“Gladly,” replied Bashoon. “While a family can do great things on its own, when its part of a Clan, it can do so much more. It demonstrates that we’re willing to put aside differences to pursue the betterment of the Imperium and the best way for us to do that is to seek profit.”

“Well, I’m happy you have your fortunes back and can rest easy knowing you have other people willing to help your family out,” declared Arsha. “...Er, does this mean...?”

“I’m not leaving Realmfleet!” yelped Bashoon. “I plan to serve Realmfleet until retirement!” Arsha released a breath.

“I was worried for a minute there,” she chuckled. “We would have lost a fine Officer.”

“What’s gonna happen to Torsko?” asked Denstra.

“If I know my future father-in-law’s tolerance level for traitors,” muttered Arsha, “nothing good.”

* * *

There was a celebration in Dwelga that lasted a few days over the return of the Scale-sword of Yunshul. It was quite the cause for celebration and, with Goblins being Goblins, it was the biggest chance for profit. Food, drink, fancy items, all were being sold at all prices. This was a true Goblin party. After the celebration, golden busts of Bashoon and her parents were set into a wall with other busts. This was the Wall of Heroes, set with the busts of famous Goblins who changed the course of the Imperium’s history and sought new ways to make profit. Once that was done, Chancellor Penshek gave a speech of praise towards the Barmeks, thanking them for their service to the Imperium, despite the wrongs they had suffered. After the speech, Bashoon and her parents returned to the _Endeavor_ and went back to work with a new view on life. “Well, I can only see things getting better from here,” sighed Bashoon.

“Ain’t that the truth!” replied Mr. Barmek.

“New heroes talking about the future?” called Arsha’s voice. She stepped into the restaurant.

“Wanna join in the conversation?” asked Bashoon.

“Much as I’d want to,” sighed Arsha, “I’m afraid I have an assignment for you. We need a new internal communications system set up and I need you to help Malak and Dalengor.”

“Understood, Captain,” confirmed Bashoon as she headed off to give Dalengor and Malak a hand. Arsha chuckled.

“You know, I may write a Letter of Promotion Recommendation for her very soon,” she mused.

“You think she’s served long enough?” asked Mr. Barmek.

“She’s certainly brave enough and her record’s impeccable,” answered Arsha. “I don’t see any reason to...” the intercom interrupted her.

“Shalvey to Arsha,” called Shalvey.

“It never fails,” Arsha sighed to herself. She headed to the restaurant’s communications terminal. “Go ahead.”

“Rokalla and Orbak have an Alpha Priority transmission for you,” relayed Shalvey. “They have reason to believe a Wraith is now involved in Dr. Borg’s affairs.” Arsha’s eyes went wide.

“Route the call to my Ready Room,” directed Arsha. “I’ll take it there.” She left the restaurant and headed to her Ready Room, unpinning her hairpiece, and fastening it to her waist. Once inside, she opened a channel. “Please tell me I heard Shalvey wrong,” she begged Orbak and Rokalla’s holograms. “Please tell me you DIDN’T tell her about a Wraith.”

“I wish we didn’t,” sighed Orbak. “The Wraith freed Torsko as I was about to behead him and they escaped with Dr. Borg and her cronies.”

“Your Majesty, I need the full story,” sighed Arsha.

“You WON’T like it,” warned Rokalla. “I sure didn’t.”

* * *

Torsko was restrained by his neck and wrists, awaiting the guillotine blade to drop. He was alone in the center of a circular, closed-off courtyard. Many people, dressed in dark robes, observed in silence as drums rang out, reverberating deep into the very fiber of Torsko’s being. The only one who wasn’t robed was Orbak. The drums silenced as a robed man unfurled a scroll. “Hear ye, all in attendance!” called the man. “Let it be known that on this 1300th day of Irtum in the 4006300079th year of the Three Realms’ Third Age of Unity, Former Goblin Chancellor Torsko Canerba is found guilty of the following charges: deception of the Goblin Imperium to secure ill profits, silencing innocent voices, keeping the Imperium in a state of stagnation, aiding and abetting the terrorist Dr. Borg, and engaging in treason against the Under-realm! Let it be known that the judges have deemed he is too dangerous to be kept alive! Let it be known that Orbak Emboramii, the King of the Under-realm, is recommended to behead Torsko so the Realms may rest easier! Let it be known that none in attendance are to discuss what happens here unless at the King’s discretion! Your Majesty, will you follow the judges’ recommendation?”

“I shall!” snarled Orbak. “I request a few words with the Condemned as I carry out the execution!”

“Your request is granted!” replied the man. Orbak stood up and strode towards the guillotine.

“For 36,000 years of your life,” growled Orbak to Torsko, “you’ve evaded scrutiny! Broke the backs of the poor! Sucked dry the bounty of the Goblins! Consorted with evil! Today, you will pay your debt as your thieving hands and treasonous head are removed!”

“Kill me, Orbak,” hissed Torsko, “and you lose profit!”

“You mistake me for my first ancestor, Intrag the Conqueror!” snarled Orbak as he took the rope attached to the guillotine’s blade. “I do not inflict bandits upon the poor! I do not consider the rulers of the other Realms my inferiors! I do not...!”

“That’s what makes you weak!” interrupted Torsko. “Intrag would have approved of my methods! His word was once law before you watered it down!” Orbak pulled the rope down, causing the blade to go up and undo its restraints on its own.

“I did not merely water Intrag’s word down,” he hissed in a low whisper, “I removed it! Intrag is dead and so is his twisted view of law! Never again will the Under-realm suffer his corruption!” His grip on the rope started to lessen...then a wind blew around the execution yard. The wind picked up until something caused the guillotine to be reduced to splinters, freeing Torsko. The wind then concentrated in one area before dark mist swirled, obscuring the shape of a man until the man inside swung his arms out, banishing the mist, and revealing a bare-chested man in only pants and shoes with the same crown as Orbak. Black mist constantly flowed around him and he strutted with a swagger reserved for confident warlords.

“Your king has returned,” chuckled the man. “You may bow.”

“Intrag?!” breathed Orbak.

“Manners, boy,” chided the man, Intrag. “Use my honorifics. Say, what’s your name, anyways?”

“I am Orbak Emboramii, the current Under-king!” introduced Orbak. Intrag flinched.

“You are a descendant of mine?” asked Intrag. “How do you claim the throne?”

“It became your son’s by right and deed!” declared Orbak. “You were killed long ago, as was your repugnant wife!”

“If you ARE my descendant,” growled Intrag, “then her blood is in your veins. Do not insult her.”

“I am the one who gives the commands!” shouted Orbak. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an execution to carry out! Once that’s done, I will deal with you and your needs as a refugee!”

“...What did you call me?!” whispered Intrag.

“Current Under-realm law clearly states that all refugees be offered assistance,” replied Orbak as he turned his gaze to Torsko. “I offer it to you, Intrag Emboramii...”

“I AM NO REFUGEE!” roared Intrag as he forcibly turned Orbak to face him. “I AM THE ONLY KING OF THE UNDER-REALM! I was going to be nice and ask you, but now I am ORDERING you! Vacate my throne or I will soak this yard in your blood!”

“I won’t cede the Under-realm’s throne!” declared Orbak as he converted his scepter to sword mode.

“It isn’t yours to give!” challenged Intrag as he rushed at Orbak. He summoned a large blade and the two swords clashed. “Impossible!” breathed Intrag. “Oyed himself made me a Wraith!”

“So you DID make a deal with the Titan!” snarled Orbak as he swung his sword again. As the Wraith and King fought, Torsko tried getting away, but the people in attendance weren’t giving him the chance. He had to continue dodging the blows to stay alive. Things weren’t looking too good for either side as both were evenly matched. That is, until the _Scorpion_ arrived. It fired a few shots to scare everyone back as Dr. Borg was transported down.

“Intrag! Torsko! To me!” she called. The two took the opportunity and joined her, allowing them to be carried up to the ship.

“SHOOT IT DOWN!” ordered Orbak. The audience tried, but it did no good. The _Scorpion_ vanished and fled the scene. Orbak unleashed a flurry of curses in the Under-realm’s language that I shall not translate here.

* * *

“Great, so Oyed’s got something more planned!” growled Arsha once the story was finished.

“If Intrag’s Wraith is involved, you bet,” remarked Orbak.

“How bad is Intrag, Your Majesty?” asked Rokalla.

“Let’s just say,” replied Orbak, “he never believed the Divine Ones’ message of unity for all Realms. He publicly called it a hoax, even in their presence, and tried to slay them when they said it wasn’t.”

“I’m surprised his soul wasn’t obliterated on the spot!” gulped Arsha.

“Family legend...or rather, historical fact now,” explained Orbak, “said that Oyed saved his soul in exchange for serving the Titan.”

“Well, we can’t let him go through with this,” growled Rokalla. “Arsha, there have been reports dark energies being discovered on an island off the eastern beach of the Gamfinar Jungle. The _Endeavor_ is to lead a small fleet there and investigate what’s going on. The fleet’s already assembled at the Rooka Forest.”

“Understood, Admiral,” confirmed Arsha.

“Good luck, Captain,” bid Rokalla. His part of the call ended. Orbak sighed.

“Arsha, if the fleet needs help...” he began.

“You and your wife will be the first I call,” replied Arsha.

“Just be careful,” advised Orbak. “Intrag’s not one to be underestimated, especially now that he’s a Wraith. Orbak out.” The call ended and Arsha changed into her duty uniform. While she changed, she didn’t notice that her rose was giving the faintest of glows.


	25. Chapter 25

“You evade my questions, Sprite,” growled Intrag once everyone was in a safe place. “I routed the Gamfinar jungle, burned this particular Fae hive, yet you aid me.”

“I’m simply doing our Lord’s bidding,” replied Dr. Borg.

“Your Majesty, forgive any impudence,” urged Torsko, “but I must beg you to heed my advice; do NOT trust her!”

“If you can explain why, I WILL forgive your impudence,” replied Intrag.

“I made the mistake of trusting her,” answered Torsko, “and she practically sold me out to Realmfleet!”

“‘Realmfleet!’” growled Intrag. “How is it that the Realms put aside their differences?!”

“How much do you remember before you died?” asked Torsko.

“All I can remember,” answered Intrag, “is that stupid so-called ‘message’ from the Divine Ones and knowing it to be a trick from one of the other Realms.”

“You publicly challenged the message’s authenticity,” explained Torsko, recalling history. “The Divine Ones intervened and the High Orc Chieftain, Juggshu, killed you. That’s when your wife took command of the Under-realm.”

“Juggshu killed me?!” snarled Intrag. “After all I did to make all of the Orc breeds powerful?!”

“Your wife tired everything to bring you back,” continued Torsko, “even sacrificing Juggshu for a ritual, but she still failed.”

“My ancestors were once assassins,” interjected Dr. Borg. “Your son hired one of my ancestors out to kill your wife. After the assassin completed his work and was paid, your son claimed the throne.”

“Your ancestor killed my wife?!” roared Intrag. “If this is true, you will be the one to pay their debt!”

“I invite you to make me!” challenged Dr. Borg as the two charged at each other.

“ENOUGH!” boomed a voice. A huge cloud of black mist exploded into being, knocking everyone off their feet. As they picked themselves up, the cloud parted to reveal the upper torso of a man clothed in black. He had the palest of skin and his eyes were nothing more than black orbs with mist constantly seeping out of them. He wore a hat that was simplistic in its design. Everyone stopped fighting and knelt in the man’s presence. “Dr. Cytanek Yavenag Borg is under my protection, Intrag Emboramii,” rumbled the man, “as are you.”

“Lord Oyed,” greeted Intrag. “Forgive my impudence, Oh Titan and Father of Gods! I was unaware of the Sprite’s involvement in your plans!”

“I shall overlook this for now,” answered the man, Oyed the Destroyer. “I must say, after seeing the Realms’ current state, I’m still displeased with how my children do not truly repair them.”

“So you intend to start the Final War?” asked Intrag.

“Not yet,” corrected Oyed. “Dr. Borg has not yet built our armies up to do so. The Splitters remain a problem.”

“Splitters, Oh Terrible Oyed?” quizzed Intrag.

“Those who’ve abandoned the Divine Ones and think as you do,” explained Dr. Borg. “They’re divided by Realm and are determined to claim their Realm’s ‘supremacy’.”

“However,” remarked Oyed, “they declared you weak early in their founding, Intrag.”

“...They WHAT?!” roared Intrag.

“You see the dilemma,” observed Oyed. “I need them gone.”

“My Lord, forgive me,” called Intrag, “but how will fighting your battles benefit me?”

“I offer a greater empire in the Final Age of Unity,” promised Oyed. “You will live eternally and be the undisputed ruler of the Under-realm.”

“...You can make me an immortal king?” asked Intrag. Tormo gave a sideways glance to Intrag.

“It is an immense task,” replied Oyed, “one where I cannot afford to be distracted. That’s why I need you. The Splitters must be broken.” He turned to everyone. “You must each gather those within the Splitters that do not fully agree with the organizations’ goals and bring them to our side,” he commanded. “Can you try this?”

“I’ll do more than try!” declared Intrag. “I’ll succeed!”

“Splendid,” praised Oyed. “In the meantime, I must make my presence known. A fleet of ships is coming and I must put them in their place.”

* * *

“Captain on the bridge!” called Malak as Arsha entered the bridge.

“As you were,” directed Arsha as she sat in the Captain’s chair. “Shalvey, open a channel to the fleet.”

“Channel open, Captain,” reported Arsha.

“All ships, report status,” Arsha called over the channel.

“ _Regatim_ , standing by,” replied the _Regatim_ ’s Captain, a male Naga named Yantar.

“ _Morkal_ , standing by,” called the _Morkal_ ’s Captain, a female Troll name Gekthoo.

“ _Bolmola_ , standing by,” reported the _Bomola_ ’s Captain, a female Zephyr named Shumfam.

“ _Hammer of Tongu_ , standing by,” answered the _Hammer of Tongu_ ’s Captain, a male Sprite named Ilmar.

“ _Twelegar_ , standing by,” relayed the _Twelegar_ ’s Captain, a male Orc named Jonshu.

“ _Belsnath_ , standing by,” called the _Belsnath_ ’s Captain, an Alraune named Orchid.

“ _Realmtrail_ , standing by,” reported the _Realmtrail_ ’s Captain, a male Centaur named Lentha.

“ _Forge_ , standing by,” answered Roozay.

“ _Skyshell_ , standing by,” called the _Skyshell_ ’s Captain, Marianes’ sister, Samuje.

“ _Drelda_ , standing by,” finished the _Drelda_ ’s Captain, a male Elf/Cecaelia Blender named Antorma.

“Is this all?!” protested Roozay. “11 ships?!”

“Somehow, Realmfleet felt it couldn’t afford more,” muttered Samuje.

“I was there when the order came down,” replied Lentha. “The only reason we have 11 ships is because we’re getting help from the Divine Ones.”

“So a Wraith is so dangerous,” remarked Arsha, “it needs divine attention.”

“Evidently, yes,” answered Lentha.

“So, which Ones are coming?” asked Orchid. Five pillars of red mist, five of yellow, and one of black appearing on the _Endeavor_ ’s bridge answered her question. “All five of the Fire and Lightning Ones and one of the Ending Ones?” The mist dissipated to reveal a male Dwarf in red, Mordek, a male Elf in red, Enfor, a male Human in red, Glaktem, a male Centaur in red, Shenfia, a male Kitsune in red, Pecktar, a Dryad in yellow, Morkal, a male Cecaelia in yellow, Entralg, a female Elf in yellow, Zalkii, a male Minotaur in yellow, Oldramor, a female Centaur in yellow, Foltrim, and a female Fairy in black, Falheem. Everyone knelt in their presence.

“We have no time to stand on ceremony,” called Entralg. “We have a dark matter to discuss.”

* * *

The Captains and Divine Ones assembled in the _Endeavor_ ’s conference room. A display of the island near the eastern edge of the Over-realm’s northern continent was projected on the table. “So, what intel do we have?” asked Arsha. Enfor stepped forward.

“Dr. Borg’s small army has set up shop in a cathedral dedicated to Oyed on the island,” he began. “They’ve set up a supply chain for mana extraction from the Gamfinar jungle.”

“That’s a pretty risky move,” remarked Ilmar. “They need vessels to cross the water between the island and the continent. Skyships are too exposed and boats will be easily bombarded from the air.”

“Not to mention the dangers inside the jungle,” rumbled Gekthoo. “Carnivorous plants that would eat a person of any size, bears that will only gore you then bury you to eat later, and let’s not forget that Intrag brought a horde of Giant Spiders to colonize the jungle during the War of the Realms.”

“And the Spiders are Sentina Spiders,” shuddered Lentha. “If Intrag’s involved, he’ll definitely get them to his side.”

“The Spiders’ ancestors, yes,” countered Roozay. “But we don’t know if the modern Giant Spiders would listen to him.”

“Besides, ghosts of all types can’t really manifest outside the Under-ream,” supplied Jonshu.

“If the ghost is using Oyed’s power, it can,” corrected Mordek. “If the Spiders see him, they’ll rally to him. Their ancestors deified him and made a whole religion around his return.”

“An appearance from him of any kind will inspire the Spiders to obey him,” supplied Entralg.

“Has he attempted a dialogue with them?” asked Yantar.

“Thankfully, he has not,” answered Mordek, “and he won’t be able to do so before the fleet gets to the island.”

“So we need to keep him occupied,” mused Orchid.

“Him AND Oyed,” explained Enfor.

“Your father’s manifested?!” gulped Arsha.

“Yes,” replied Enfor. “As long as a worshipper of his makes contact, he can freely escape his prison from the After-realm’s Depths. That is why we’re going with you on this mission.”

“We’ll occupy Oyed and Intrag while the fleet destroys the cathedral,” declared Pecktar. “With any luck, Oyed will be banished back to the After-realm and Intrag’s soul will finally fade into nothingness.”

“The cathedral’s sure to have ground forces,” remarked Shumfam.

“Then we need to use drone fighters to occupy the enemy,” called Arsha, “while our own ground forces destroy the cathedral from within.”

“If they get pinned down in there,” muttered Orchid, “there’s no way out for them.”

“To ensure the Realms’ survival and to make sure the Final War does not start so soon,” remarked Mordek, “we must all be willing to sacrifice.”

“I’M the Black Divine One here,” interjected Falheem. “I’M supposed to say that when I need to. It’s been 5,000 years too long since your grim and gritty makeover, droning on about sacrifice. Unlike the mortals in this fleet, we don’t exactly have families to lose if we fail.” Mordek’s face assumed a scowl.

“I know loss, Falheem,” he growled.

“Lord Mordek’s right, Lady Falheem,” called Arsha. “we can’t afford to go through the Final War. We need to strike now before the Realms fall to Oyed’s design.”

* * *

Over in the jungle, an Elf woman ran through the trees, stopping to examine a plant that looked sickly. “That’s no good!” she griped. She ran through the trees again and found mushrooms that were liquifying. “Another Tomnar mushroom patch gone!” she grumbled. Just then, a bird flew by and tweeted something at her. It took aa bit of her hair in its feet and pulled it in one direction. “Easy! Let go!” she snapped at the bird. She followed it to a clearing where a small monkey coughed. “Johgo!” she yelped as she dashed towards the monkey. The monkey opened his eyes and held his hand to the Elf’s face.

“Sorsha,” he coughed. “I don’t...I don’t think...”

“Don’t talk!” directed the Elf, Sorsha. “I’ll get you home!” She scooped the monkey, Johgo, into her arms and dashed towards a small sled. She placed him in a small basket, then grabbed the handlebars and channeled magic into the sled, making it propel itself through the jungle to a small cottage. She stopped the sled, then brought Johgo inside. A bunch of birds cluster around Johgo as Sorsha gathered healing materials. “HEY! CLEAR OFF! GIVE THE POOR GUY SOME AIR!” she shouted. The birds scattered and Sorsha got to work brewing up potions. She checked over her notes repeatedly after several failed attempts. When she made a glowing, green potion, she held the flask up to her face. “If this doesn’t work, nothing will,” she muttered grimly. She held the flask’s opening to Johgo’s mouth and tipped it so the contents came out slowly. The monkey’s eyes then went wide and he shoved the flask aside before throwing up. The bile took a dark purple color as it landed on Sorsha’s floor.

“That was disgusting!” gagged Johgo.

“What are you complaining about?” grumbled Sorsha as she sighed in relief. “You’re alive, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah, but my throat’s burning!” replied Johgo.

“You know where the water is,” answered Sorsha. Johgo clambered his way to a small water cooler and got himself a cup. He opened the tap and filled the cup, then shut the tap off and drank the water. Sorsha got out a small dome and placed it over the mess.

“I swear,” muttered Johgo, “all I did was eat a small apple and it blighted in my mouth and made me sick! Name me one piece of magic that does that!”

“Not any natural magic,” mused Sorsha as she got a reading from the small screen on the dome. Her eyes widened in fear. “...Oh my, but it IS! It’s natural magic all right, but an old form of it. A dark, powerful, angry, EVIL magic.” At that moment, she became aware of footsteps outside her cottage. Though the windows were shuttered, the shapes of human-sized spiders were seen scuttling around her home! “...He’s coming back!” realized Sorsha. “Johgo, when I’ve made a path, you make a break for your troop!”

“But, what about you?!” protested Johgo.

“I’ve got ways of getting out of this! Now get ready to go when I say so!” ordered Sorsha as she charged out of her cottage and fired concussive spells at the Giant Spiders. After a few minutes of combat, a path was cleared. “GO!” shouted Sorsha. Johgo scampered off at top speed and made his way to the canopy. After a few more minutes, the Giant Spiders surrounded Sorsha, daring her to make a move.

“Little monkey all alone!” taunted a Giant Spider.

“Sending your kid away?!” laughed another.

“We had a treaty!” snarled Sorsha. “You would leave me and my friends alone and I wouldn’t interfere in your business!”

“Like we’re going to keep a treaty with feculent monkeys,” argued a third Giant Spider.

“Spell ‘feculent’,” snarked Sorsha.

“F-E-C...” began the second Spider.

“Quiet!” snapped the third as he smacked the second’s head with his pedipalps. He turned to Sorsha. “With Intrag returning, our treaty is null and void! The Final War’s coming and there ain’t a thing you can do to stop it!”

“No, but I can make sure my faction wins!” snarled Sorsha. The Spiders laughed at that statement.

“You don’t have the firepower to do so!” taunted the first Spider.

“Doesn’t she?” asked a voice.

“Go away, boy,” hissed the first Spider, not turning around to face the voice. “Don’t interfere in matters that don’t concern you.” The voice’s owner then smacked the Spider’s rear, angering the Spider and making him turn around. His angry demeanor changed to a fearful one as he saw a Forest Dragon in humanoid form.

“Who are you calling ‘boy’?” snarled the Forest Dragon.

“Hey, Jokorah’s looking where you are!” gulped the third Spider.

“You mean he’s looking where I WAS!” yelped the first Spider. “AM-SCRAY!” The Spider army ran into the jungle, nearly tripping over each other in fear. Once it was just the Forest Dragon and Sorsha, they spoke.

“Noticed anything recently?” asked the Forest Dragon, Jokorah.

“I had Johgo complain that an apple he was eating blighted in his mouth and made him sick,” replied Sorsha.

“His whole troop managed to get the same results,” revealed Jokorah. “I healed them all, but couldn’t find Johgo. I take it you healed him?”

“Yep,” confirmed Sorsha. “I also learned that the blight’s evil in origin. Given what I’ve heard from the Spiders, I’d say it’s the work of Oyed manifesting and bringing Intrag back.”

“I’ll do what I can to slow the spread of the blight,” declared Jokorah, “but we need a large source of mana to purge it.”

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up,” affirmed Sorsha as she dashed back into her cottage to grab her book, then dashed into the jungle to begin her search.


	26. Chapter 26

Foresna drummed his fingers on his table at Barmek’s. Recent events were making him worried. “Someone looks unhappy,” rumbled a voice. Foresna glanced up to see Gorfanth standing by the table. “May I?” asked Gorfanth. Foresna nodded and Gorfanth sat near Foresna. “You look like something’s weighing on your thoughts, Farm Boy,” mused Gorfanth.

“It’s been at least a few days since the incident with the Scale-sword,” remarked Foresna. “Five Realmfleet officers who died last year came back to life, fought Arsha, then betrayed their master and helped Arsha, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them!”

“They went with Orbak after he arrested Torsko,” explained Gorfanth. “They’re trying to find a way to rest in peace again.”

“We could really use the Revenants in the coming fight!” protested Foresna.

“With Oyed supposed to come?” asked Gorfanth. “Foresna, that’s way too risky. For all we know, the Titan could bring them under his control. Talking to him IS a part of creating a Revenant.”

“And that’s another thing!” grumbled Foresna. “We’re taking a fleet of ships to fight the Titan himself! The future’s looking a little bloody!”

“‘Obsessing over a potential bad future does not change it’,” quoted Gorfanth.

“Neither’s accepting our fate of fighting the Final War in our lifetime!” argued Foresna.

“I’m not,” answered Gorfanth, “but we can’t change a future we don’t fully know. The Divine Ones will guide us.”

“Can we trust them right now?!” demanded Foresna. “It looks like they’re going to get us killed!” His attention was then grabbed by an Elf woman sneaking by the restaurant’s door. “Hey, is she a member of the crew?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” replied Gorfanth. “Come on.” He and Foresna followed her through the ship until they reached the Mana Stores.

“Well now,” mused the Elf, Sorsha, “I think I can get some of this to…”

“Excuse me!” called a security Elf. Sorsha yelped as she turned around to see him. Foresna and Gorfanth also made their presence known by clearing their throats.

“…Could have sworn I cast all sorts of stealth spells,” muttered Sorsha.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” demanded the security Elf.

“Aren’t you gonna ask them too?!” asked Sorsha as she pointed to Foresna and Gorfanth.

“…They’re the Captain’s fiancés,” replied the security Elf. “Most likely, they followed you at some point.”

“…Okay, I need your mana stores,” explained Sorsha.

“With a battle coming up? No way!” snapped the security Elf.

“I have a blight to take care of,” growled Sorsha, “and I can’t do that without mana!”

“Well, we have a battle with Oyed and his forces,” snarled Gorfanth as he summoned a massive axe over his head. He held it in one hand.

“…Er, you know, I think I’ll just leave,” gulped Sorsha, not feeling brave enough to take on an armed, adult Minotaur. “Good luck in the fight.” She cast a teleport spell and vanished in orange light.

“Thank you, Mr. Steelhorn,” bid the security Elf.

“That’s gonna be 20 golds,” remarked Foresna.

“Wha…no way!” argued Gorfanth. “The bet was if Oyed would send an assassin to kill Arsha! She was just interested in the ship’s mana stores!”

“Semantics,” countered Foresna. Gorfanth rolled his eyes as he dismissed the axe.

* * *

Arsha was in her Ready Room, setting her head for the coming fight. She was sure that more would die than on Reb’s island. As of now, she was thinking of a way to keep the casualties down as much as possible. Her thoughts were interrupted by the door chime. “Come in,” she called. Falheem then entered the room. “Lady Falheem!” yelped Arsha.

“Peace, Arsha,” replied Falheem. “I just came to check on you, see how you were doing.”

“…If I tell you the truth, you need to promise that it never leaves this room unless at my discretion,” sighed Arsha.

“That serious, I see,” mused Falheem. She snapped her fingers. “We’ll only be interrupted for emergencies and what we discuss will not go beyond the door. You have the solemn promise of Falheem, the Second Black Divine One of Ending.” With the Oath of the Ones spoken, Arsha began.

“Is it bad that I feel like this shouldn’t be happening at all?” she asked.

“The feeling itself isn’t bad,” replied Falheem, “the actions you take because of that feeling are what are judged.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” assured Arsha, “I want to help you guys take down Oyed and imprison him in the After-realm, but I feel like he shouldn’t have broken out in my lifetime.”

“He shouldn’t have, no,” remarked Falheem. “We were trying to keep his prison secure so he wouldn’t break out until, at least, the Third Age has lasted 50 more millennia.”

“It’s just…” Arsha floundered for a bit, moving her hands to find the right words. She finally sighed, giving up. “I don’t know. Lately I’ve been wishing it were Reb Rojam I was fighting or the Splitters.”

“…I know the feeling,” sighed Falheem. “For us Divine Ones, it would be a lot simpler if our enemies were mortals. But life is rarely that simple.”

“Yeah,” sighed Arsha. They sat in silence for a few seconds.

“…If I may change the topic for a minute,” mused Falheem, “what happened to Reb and Melgem?”

“They’re serving a life sentence now,” replied Arsha. “Without them, the Scarlet Stream Pirates would have been directionless.”

“…Would have been?” repeated Falheem. “What do you mean?”

“Rochak’s gathered mutineers and threw in his lot with Dr. Borg,” explained Arsha.

“What in the Realms for?!” yelped Falheem.

“They think profit’s in their future,” replied Arsha.

“With Oyed?! That’s a load of rubbish!” snapped Falheem. “Who are these people and why is Oyed associating with them?!” She took in a breath before continuing. “All right, let’s forget about Oyed’s current followers, let’s talk about his previous ones. How did you know to trust the Realmfleet Revenants?”

“During their accusations,” explained Arsha, “Eltan spoke to me over mental channels. I DID inherit the Kitsunes’ lack of mental powers, but I managed to piece together what their real intentions were, so I got everyone to play along.”

“Thank goodness,” sighed Falheem. “Who knows what could have happened if they actually DID join with Dr. Borg?”

* * *

Speaking of a certain Cyborg Sprite, she was busy drafting up a proposal for materials for a new machine. As she worked, she heard a knock on the door. “Enter,” she directed. Tormo then came in. “What can I do for you?” asked Dr. Borg.

“It’s about what Oyed said yesterday,” replied Tormo.

“About Intrag commanding an eternal Under-realm empire?” recalled Dr. Borg. “I offer something greater than that.”

“What’s that?” asked Tormo. Dr. Borg motioned for him to come to her side of the desk. He did so, then bent over a little to hear her whispers. She kept her words in the lowest voice possible. Tormo’s eyes goggled. “…Me? A Divine One’s replacement?” he whispered.

“Exactly,” confirmed Dr. Borg. “That’s why I’ve called you one of my Chosen Ones. The prophecy says that when the Final War’s over, by Mortal’s hands, the Titan falls. Oyed believes that the Titan will be some old monster. Well, he’s in for a nasty surprise.”

“In that case, Intrag can have his puny empire,” chuckled Tormo. “I’ll take godhood any day. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Nonsense,” replied Dr. Borg. “Anything to help out.” Tormo left the room and Dr. Borg returned to her work.

* * *

“Of all the times to be refused,” grumbled Sorsha as she returned to the jungle’s sandy eastern shore.

“No help, huh?” asked a voice.

“Not an ounce of…” Sorsha trailed off as she recognized the voice. She turned around to see the three Giant Spiders from earlier.

“Thank you for joining us for supper!” purred the first Spider. He turned to his comrades. “Get the cooking fire set up.”

“No, you called me fat earlier!” snapped the third Spider.

“NO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!” shouted the first Spider.

“And it’s not the first time you called either of us fat!” snarled the second Spider. As they argued, Sorsha tried to get away. The attempt failed as the first Spider’s pedipalp grabbed her and set her in front of him and his friends.

“You’re going nowhere!” he hissed. “We’re going to make a nice stew out of you!”

“I don’t recommend it,” gulped Sorsha. “Us Elves are pretty fattening.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” cackled the first Spider.

“Why should it?” grumbled the third Spider. “He’s not the one who’s fat!”

“Please, I’m hungry!” whined the first Spider.

“If you think we’re fat, just say so!” snapped the second Spider.

“Please!” begged the first. “I don’t think you two are fat!”

“Then why do you always call us fat?!” demanded the third.

“Wha…ALWAYS?!” protested the first. “I don’t ALWAYS call you two fat!”

“To tell you the truth,” grumbled the second, “it can get a little much to take.”

“Guys, be reasonable!” pleaded the first. “I wasn’t thinking! I was trying to catch our dinner! This isn’t the time…” he finally caved in. “I take it back, you’re not fat.”

“Too late!” snapped the third. “I know your true feelings!”

“Please!” begged the first. “Let’s just prepare her for supper!”

“I suppose her limbs will make for decent subs,” mused the second.

“And we can finish it all off with cinnamon rolls,” suggested the third.

“SUBS?! CINNAMON ROLLS?!” wailed the first. “Imagine what Quaynus would say if she heard you! Please, let’s just chop her up for the stew!”

“Again with the stew!” protested the third. “Why can’t we make nice subs out of her?!”

“Please! Guys!” whined the first. “There’s nothing wrong with stew!”

“I don’t remember the last time I had a cinnamon roll,” mused the second.

“Again with the cinnamon rolls!” snarled the first. “What kind of food is that for a Giant Spider to eat?! Tell me, what kind of self-respecting Giant Spider would bother with any kind of sandwich or pastry?! STEW is what we shall make out of her and we don’t need sweets!”

“Don’t get greedy with me!” snapped the second. “I can make enough cinnamon rolls for all of us! Besides, we only need her arms and legs to make the subs!”

“It’s nothing to do with greed, it’s a matter of principle!” argued the first. “I’m only trying to protect your reputation!”

“You mean YOUR reputation!” countered the second.

“Have you no pride?!” snapped the first.

“Oh, please,” groaned the second.

“Giant Spiders do NOT eat subs or cinnamon rolls!” insisted the first.

“What would you know about Giant Spider feeding habits?!” snapped the second.

“What’s THAT supposed to…?!” snarled the first.

“Hey, did we order our dinner to go?” asked the third, grabbing their attention.

“No, why?” asked the first.

“Then WHERE’D SHE GO?!” yelped the third. Sorsha had taken off during the argument.

“…WHY DIDN’T YOU IDIOTS STOP ME?!” roared the first.

“Why should we?” asked the second. “You’re SO smart!”

“Why I oughta…COME HERE!” The first lunged at the second and the two locked their legs to try and score a blow onto the other. The third just rolled its eyes and looked out to the ocean, waiting for his friends to exhaust themselves.


	27. Chapter 27

The fleet arrived at the island and entered a holding pattern. Dr. Borg looked out of the cathedral’s balcony to see it, then she contacted Oyed. “They’ve arrived,” she warned him.

“I’ll deal with them,” declared Oyed. “Help Intrag establish contact with the Giant Spiders.”

“Yes, my Lord,” confirmed Dr. Borg. She ended the call and left her balcony to find Intrag. She found him at the underground dock, trying to puzzle out the controls of a boat. “Our Lord suggests that you make haste for the jungle and establish a dialogue with the Spiders,” she relayed.

“Well, tell him not to get his pants in a twist, I’m getting to that!” shouted Intrag. “First, I have to figure this damned thing out! You know, it’s a lot simpler when it’s just magic!”

“It IS magic, you just need to find the switch for it,” sighed Dr. Borg.

“Can’t Oyed just fill my head with current knowledge?!” snapped Intrag.

“One: you’re a Wraith, you don’t really HAVE a head to fill,” replied Dr. Borg. “Two: he’s preoccupied with the fleet that just arrived.”

“Because, of course, he wants to stretch his legs,” grumbled Intrag.

“He’s been imprisoned since the First Age,” remarked Dr. Borg. “He has the right.”

* * *

Oyed calmly walked outside until he was underneath the fleet. “I never expected you lot to face me,” he called. He then sensed something. “…No fear whatsoever. Realmfleet’s finest must be either very brave or very stupid.” No one replied. “…Hello!” called Oyed. “How do you kids put it…I’m hailing you!” 11 streams of light then announced the arrival of the 11 Divine Ones. “Oh, that’s why I sensed no fear,” scoffed Oyed. “You’re all confident that my children will save you. Optimism is a thin shield.”

“Oyed!” called Morkal. “Withdraw and return to the Depths of the After-realm or suffer the wrath of the Realms’ protectors!”

“Now, that’s no way to greet your father,” chided Oyed.

“It’s the only way!” snarled Enfor.

“Then I need to discipline you,” declared Oyed. He charged at the Divine Ones and they began their fight!

* * *

“Go! Now!” urged Mordek’s voice in the Captains’ heads.

“All ships, begin aerial bombardment!” called Arsha. The ships fired their weapons around the cathedral, keeping any enemy forces inside.

* * *

“Oh no, not this time!” snarled Dr. Borg. She activated the comms. “Fire at will!” she ordered. As hidden weapons from the cathedral activated and fired on the fleet, Dr. Borg switched communications channels. “Scorpo, do you read?”

“Loud and clear,” replied Scorpo’s voice.

“You are cleared for launch,” directed Dr. Borg. “Take out the fleet. Survivors at your discretion.”

“I thought you’d never ask!” cheered Scorpo. “You can easily say goodbye to those eyesores! Scorpo out!”

* * *

Once the call ended, Scorpo turned to Jansha and Yulduk at the helm. “Let’s get started!” he declared as he sat in the Captain’s chair. “Have them release the docking clamps and open the hangar doors!”

“Docking clamps are released,” reported Jansha. “Maho-drive engines are now supporting us. Hangar doors open.”

“Taking us up,” called Yulduk. “The engine’s purring like a happy Neko.”

“Once we’ve cleared the hangar doors, activate the cloak,” ordered Scorpo. “Prime all weapons and ready the claws, then target the _Skyshell_. Tear her apart.”

“Aye, Sir,” replied Yulduk.

“Scorpo, I don’t mean to be pedantic,” interjected Jansha, “but we’ll need to decloak before using the weapons.”

“That’s why, after we destroy the _Skyshell_ ,” replied Scorpo, “we silence the weapons and recloak before targeting another ship. I’m also aware of the 30 second window between activation and deactivation of the cloak. That’s why I want our strikes to be done smart and secret.”

“Understood,” declared Jansha. The _Scorpion_ cleared the hangar doors and cloaked as it moved towards the ships.

* * *

“Captain,” called Malak to Arsha, “sensors detected a ship’s engine signature but we can’t get a visual!”

“It has to be the _Scorpion_ ,” muttered Arsha. “Shalvey, advise the fleet that there’s a cloaked vessel!”

“Fleet’s acknowledged,” replied Shalvey. “I just hope they can be clever to find it.”

* * *

“A cloaked vessel, huh?” mused Samuje. “Sounds like Dr. Borg’s not interested in legality. Keep up the assault, but keep an eye out for any massive shift in mana particles.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” replied her Tactical Officer. His fingers danced at the weapons controls as he noticed a blip. “Right on cue!” declared the Tactical Officer. “I believe I’ve found our cloaked vessel!”

“Fire!” called Samuje. The weapons fired, but hit nothing.

“…Now that makes no sense!” growled the Tactical Officer. “Resuming…”

* * *

“Fire the stinger!” called Scorpo.

“Decloaking and firing!” called Jansha. A concealed weapon sprang from the rear of the ship as it revealed itself. It fired a stream of light for a few seconds before moving off.

* * *

“FIRES ON DECKS 3, 7, AND 24!” called Samuje’s Tactical Officer. “ENGINEERING’S REPORTED MULTIPLE MALFUNCTIONS ON ALL SYSTEMS!”

“ENGINE CORE BREACH!” reported her Chief Engineer. “SAFETY LOCKS AREN’T RESPONDING! I CAN’T EJECT IT!”

“ABANDON SHIP!” ordered Samuje. “ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP!”

* * *

The ship exploded, much to the delight of the _Scorpion_ crew. “Perfect!” purred Scorpo. “Anyone escape?”

“Getting the read-out,” replied Jansha. “…Looks like the Captain and a few ensigns.”

“I GUESS we can let them live,” mused Scorpo. Just then, Yulduk got a blip on his console.

“Hey, are we expecting any new recruits?” he asked.

“During combat?” quizzed Scorpo. “No. Why?”

“Then we’ve got a trio of stowaways outside the bridge!” yelped Yulduk. Some sort of torch then began cutting its way through the bridge door!

“Wands out!” ordered Scorpo as he readied his claws and tail. Jansha activated a needle from her wrist and Yulduk drew out his wand. The door then burst open and Endea led a team in, wands blazing. She tackled Scorpo while two others fought Jansha and Yulduk. They had the same skin tone as Endea. One of them was a man with the _Drelda_ ’s name and registry number, the other was a man with the _Morkal_ ’s name and registry.

“I don’t believe we’ve met!” Endea snarled as she held Scorpo’s arms at bay.

“No, we haven’t,” replied Scorpo as his tail slammed into Endea, knocking her back. “I’m Scorpo, the _Scorpion_ , and you’re trespassing, you traitor!”

“My testimony,” hissed Endea, “liberated us Mechanicas before we experienced full slavery!”

“Yet you still side with those who want to enslave you!” argued Scorpo as his claw grabbed her neck.

“I…get paid!” choked Endea.

“Yeah, because that makes it SO much better!” snarled Scorpo as he tossed Endea across the bridge. Meanwhile, Yulduk was grappling with his Mechanica.

“So, what do YOU call yourself, friend?” Yulduk asked his opponent.

“I’m Mork, the _Morkal_ ,” introduced the Mechanica.

“…Is…that REALLY how Mechanicas introduce themselves?” quizzed Yulduk.

“Well, it’s how ship-type Mechanicas introduce themselves,” replied Mork. “I’m guessing you’re the first Revenant, Yulduk. Yeah, I could smell you a por away.”

“Got a nose like a Cerberus, do you?” chuckled Yulduk.

“Dude, you’ve got a B.O. problem,” explained Mork as he waved his hand in front of his nose.

“I most certainly…!” Yulduk then gagged after he took a whiff of his pits. “Then again, maybe I DO need to invest in stronger deodorant!” Mork’s uppercut then slammed into Yulduk’s chin.

“MADE YOU TALK!” laughed Mork. While Yulduk was busy with Mork, Jansha was keeping her opponent at bay.

“Obviously, ship-type Mechanica names are shortened versions of the ship itself,” mused Jansha. “So, what’s the _Drelda_ ’s Mechanica name?”

“I’m Dreld,” introduced the Mechanica. “Did you know the _Skyshell_ was a Mechanica as well? Skysh was his name and I loved him! You murdered your own kin!”

“He picked his side, I picked mine,” dismissed Jansha. “Besides, Mechanicas will still know abuse on the level I suffered at Dr. Ganshar’s hands, no matter what Realmfleet decrees! Honestly, it was better for me to put him down like that!”

“As if your way’s any better!” snarled Dreld as he slammed her against a console. “Your way will only inspire MORE racist assholes!”

“My way will put them down for good!” argued Jansha. As they grappled, Dreld noticed something hanging above the console.

“…Fuzzy dice?” he asked. The dice were 120-sided. “Now that’s just tacky!”

“Scorpo thought it would look cool!” snapped Jansha as she got out from under him and slammed him onto the helm controls. The ship then tilted and drifted towards the sea, skimming the water! Scorpo flinched, then shoved Endea aside to get to the helm.

“Keep that nasty-asty seawater off my hull!” he snapped as he leveled out. “I’m hand-wash only!”

* * *

Dr. Borg took this time to stroll around the cathedral and observe its construction. It was dark, with stained glass windows telling the story of how Oyed was defeated by the Divine Ones after the Realms became what they are, how he was imprisoned, and how he would rise again and cleanse the Realms. The Vaulted Ceiling was covered in a painting depicting Oyed bringing the Realms together under his rule. After her neck protested after craning her head upwards for so long, she shifted her gaze to the main altar. As elaborate as it was, there was still a plainness to it. She sat in one of the pews and folded her arms, thinking about how she was going to divide up the Council. She still needed her spouses and Tormo, Yulduk, Scorpo, and Jansha were highly skilled. Counting her, that was eight. She needed two more. As she thought, her antennae detected mana particles from the vaults below the cathedral. She keyed in a command on her arm and saw Realmfleet forces engaged with Intrag! “…The Sanctum!” she guessed. “Two diversions in one week! I’m a fool!” She established a mental connection with Oyed.

“Child, I’m a little busy at the moment,” he chided, “so, whatever you must say, please make it brief.”

“Realmfleet forces have infiltrated the Vaults!” reported Dr. Borg.

“But…my children…!” yelped Oyed as he held Zalkii’s neck. He then reached the same conclusion as Dr. Borg. “A diversion!” he snarled as he tossed Zalkii aside. He then established a mental connection with all of his followers. “Back!” he decreed. “Back to the cathedral! Secure the Sanctum!”

* * *

“They’re getting wise!” yelped Malak on the _Endeavor_. Denstra gripped the armrests of the Captain’s Chair.

“Arsha, you better make it out of there!” she hissed.


	28. Chapter 28

“Tell me again why you swapped places with Tenmak?!” an Elf hissed to Arsha as the strike team continued through the Vaults.

“Let’s just say, I want to finish this personally,” replied Arsha. She held up her hand, signaling the team to stop. Her ears twitched as she heard a noise. “...Ones damn it!” she swore. “The enemy’s getting wise! We’re on a tighter clock! Set the charges!” The team set up detonation packs and keyed in the time it would take to detonate the charges.

“YOU WILL CEASE THIS BLATANT SABOTAGE NOW!” roared Intrag’s voice. He ran in, swinging his spectral sword and decapitating a few teammates.

“I don’t take orders from mere dictators or their tyrant masters!” shouted Arsha as she drew her sword.

“Tyrant?!” bellowed Intrag. “Oyed is a Titan!” He was surprised as Arsha’s blade stopped his. “What in the...?!” he spluttered.

“Orbak himself,” explained Arsha, “gave us the secret in how he blocked your blows and hurt you! He’s taught me how to enchant my sword so I can keep you at bay!”

“He reveals Under-realm secrets to an Out-realmer?!” roared Intrag. “Even more proof he’s unfit to rule!”

“Yet the people call him the greatest Under-king!” snarled Arsha as she swung her sword at him.

“Captain, all det-packs are set and primed!” reported a Troll.

“ _Endeavor_ , do you have a lock on us?!” Arsha called the _Endeavor_.

“Locked and waiting,” replied the transporter chief.

“Get us out of here!” ordered Arsha. The team was whisked away by multiple transport spells, leaving Intrag to examine one. He had enough knowledge to know what a clock was.

“...Ten minutes?” remarked Intrag. “You do not give us enough credit.”

* * *

“Start the countdown!” ordered Arsha to Malak once she returned to the bridge.

“Countdown has begun,” reported Malak.

* * *

The 10 on the timer went to 9, then to 8, then 7, and so on, leading Intrag to realize that the one who programmed the timers set it so that the minutes would go down in seconds! “OUT-REALMER TRICKS!” he roared. The charges then exploded in short order, destroying the foundations of the cathedral, and reducing the altar, Oyed’s main exit from his prison, to rubble.

* * *

Oyed felt the effects immediately, vanishing in a great deal of pain. Dr. Borg hadn’t been able to escape in time, so her new body was killed instantly. Scorpo received a message ordering all survivors to meet Dr. Borg in her newer body in the new base and begin construction on a new altar for Oyed. Once all survivors were brought aboard the _Scorpion_ , the ship moved off. Unfortunately, the sea-water from earlier had affected the cloaking abilities, so they couldn’t cloak and escape. “Stupid Realmfleet!” grumbled Scorpo.

* * *

The Realmfleet ships were ordered to let them go so their respective medical crews could take care of any wounded. Sadly, Samuje didn’t survive the destruction of her ship unscathed. Marshii and her crew had to perform surgery as Samuje’s lung was damaged from a broken rib and her eye was gone. Arsha conveyed the news to Marianes and her family and they were devastated. They were glad she survived the battle, but knew Samuje would never be the same again. It took several days before Samuje received her prosthetic eye. During that time, Arsha ran a funeral service for those that lost their lives. The 11 Divine Ones that distracted Oyed were in attendance. Arsha stood at the altar and addressed the crew. “I see no reason in lying,” she began, “this day is a dark day. We lost too many good people. I know statistics will say that it was a small price. Well, I say this: even if only ONE person died, it would still be one death too many in my eyes. I’ve looked at the service records of each and every crew member of the _Skyshell_ and can only wish I could have met them all in person, because they were good people. To the _Skyshell_ ’s survivors, I can only offer my deepest condolences. I only wish I can offer more.”

“Take comfort,” advised Mordek. “They died a warrior’s death. May we all be so fortunate.”

“You did NOT just say that!” hissed Falheem. She then addressed the mourners. “I can safely say that they have reached the Heights of the After-realm, safely in our embrace. They have asked me and my colleagues to tell you to continue living and fighting in their name. We must never let someone like Oyed win.”

“With all that said,” called Arsha, “we will take half a week to reflect. I would strongly advise visiting Thengo. As we finish our gathering today, let us end it in the traditional manner.” All in attendance stood, crossed their arms, and splayed their fingers, then turned their gaze to the sky.

“May you rest in peace, Oh Dearly Departed,” they chanted. “We shall continue to live in your name. Amen.” The mourners then departed and Arsha headed to her quarters. They were empty, so she took the time to think alone.

“Well, Arsha Royana,” she muttered to herself, “it took two major events to realize how much death affects you. So, what are you going to do? Well, visit Thengo, for one thing. Stop talking to myself for another.” Her self-dialogue was interrupted by her door chime. “Come in,” she called. Foresna and Gorfanth entered the large room.

“Arsha, I know this sounds like a stupid question,” began Gorfanth, “but are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” sighed Arsha. “I knew I didn’t like the concept of death, but I never realized how much it affected me until today. It was bad enough that five Realmfleet Officers died last year, but having only a few survivors of a _Reef_ -class skyship’s destruction? I was talking to myself out loud before you two came in, planning on what to do next.”

“What IS next for you?” asked Foresna.

“Visiting Thengo and putting on a brave face for the crew,” replied Arsha. “Lately, I’ve felt like I had no reason to find happiness.”

“Your bun HAS been looking a little naked lately,” remarked Gorfanth.

“Come on, Gorfanth,” chided Foresna. “It’s hardly your place to comment on her appearance right now!”

“If I said it in a derogatory manner, I apologize,” offered Gorfanth. “That was nowhere near my intention. I just meant that Arsha’s been given one crisis after another lately.”

“I can’t argue with that,” muttered Arsha. “I’ll see if I can get some leave time from...” her plans were interrupted by an alarm. “WHAT NOW?!” shouted Arsha. The three then heard a gulp and saw Sorsha by Arsha’s vanity, taking a small box!

“You again?!” snapped Foresna as he punched his hand, Gorfanth summoned his axe, and Arsha held one open hand behind her while the other was across her front. Sorsha then took out a communicator.

“Er, Jokorah, I don’t think it’s working!” she hissed into it.

“You’ve got five seconds to explain why you’re skulking around this ship!” growled Gorfanth.

“I...er...” Sorsha was failing at coming up with a plausible lie.

“I reiterate my future hubby’s question, what are you doing on my ship?!” snarled Arsha as she summoned teal energy balls.

“I’m not doing anything to your crew,” replied Sorsha. “I’m just here for the biggest concentration of mana to cure a blight.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you!” hissed Foresna. “Especially since she hasn’t been wearing her lucky rose and she’s been inundated with crises all week!”

“Oh, I see what’s going on,” chuckled Sorsha. “Too much mana nearby.”

“...Huh?” asked Arsha.

“You’ve been around too much mana for too long,” explained Sorsha. “I’d say you’ve been dosed with it for 100 years. So, the best thing to do is to drain off the excess mana. Pretty soon, you’ll be hallucinating Oyed’s resurgence or a Wraith. Over time, some people will start seeing him too, like the Giant Spiders of my home.”

“Hardly a hallucination if the Divine Ones distracted him while we destroyed his cathedral,” growled Arsha.

“...What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Sorsha.

“We just lost a ship to Oyed and his followers!” answered Arsha. “Last time I checked, the Divine Ones can’t be affected by any illusion that mortals either accidentally or purposefully conjure up! Oyed’s preparing to start the Final War!” Sorsha blinked in stark surprise.

* * *

Intrag opened his eyes to see himself in a void. He felt as if he was standing on solid ground. “Where am I?” he asked himself.

“The Depths, of course,” replied Oyed’s voice. Intrag turned to see Oyed in chains. He looked unhappy.

“My Lord, the battle is not yet over!” growled Intrag. “I shall return and...!” He didn’t get far as whatever passed for a floor vanished and he was left dangling from one of Oyed’s chains.

“Return?” hissed Oyed. “After you failed to contact the Giant Spiders? After you forgot the Wraith abilities I gave you? No, you will fade.”

“MY LORD! PLEASE! HAVE MERCY!” begged Intrag.

“Only Dr. Borg and her followers deserve mercy,” dismissed Oyed. He increased the chain’s surface temperature, burning Intrag’s hands, and forcing him to let go. Intrag fell through the void, his screams mingling with the rest of the damned.

* * *

The Giant Spider Trio scuttled through the jungle, a look of panic plain on their faces. “I can’t believe it!” whimpered the third. “I just can’t believe it! What’s gonna happen to us?!” The first Spider stopped and signaled for his friends to do the same.

“That cave over there,” he announced as his pedipalp pointed to a large entrance, “that will serve to hide us for a few days.”

“We may need to hide for the rest of our lives!” wailed the second. “We didn’t mean to go lax on our assignment! What will happen if Quaynus finds out?!”

“It was YOU!” hissed the third as he jabbed a pedipalp at the first. “YOU made us do it! It was YOUR idea!”

“Nobody’s gonna find out anything!” snapped the first. “Now stop your babbling and help me find some camouflage for the entrance!” The Spiders found leaves, twigs, and rocks and used their webbing to make a make-shift door for the cave. Once they were inside, they sat to catch their breath.

“We should never have been distracted!” moaned the third.

“All I wanted to do was catch the Elf!” protested the first.

“We were supposed to be on patrol for Intrag’s arrival!” snapped the second. “YOU wanted to get revenge on the Elf for embarrassing us at her home! ‘Our honor is paramount,’ you said! ‘Spiders need to establish dominance!’ Unless, of course, we forget our assignment and let our god fall! We were under strict orders to greet him and YOU had to go and get distracted by your stomach! Ooooh, we’re dead! Why, oh why, oh why, oh why, oh wh...?!”

“SHUT UP!” shouted the first. The cave then went silent.

“...I’m hungry,” muttered the second.

“Me too,” mused the third.

“Me three,” affirmed the first. “Stay here, you two. I’ll find us something to eat.”

“What do you have planned?” asked the second.

“I’m just scavenging, right now,” replied the first. “Maybe I can find some birds or squirrels. One word about either cinnamon rolls or subs and I’ll kill you both!”

“Hey, while you’re out there,” called the third, “try to find some nice, soft grass for us to sit on and be comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled the first. He stepped outside and hunted for a good few minutes before coming back, hauling a massive tiger. “Check it out, boys! We’ll feast tonight!”

“Did you get the grass?” asked the second.

“Er, no, I couldn’t find any that was soft enough when I found the tiger,” replied the first.

“Maybe you should expand your search a little more,” suggested the second.

“No, I’m too hungry,” answered the first.

“Are you going to get the grass?” asked the third.

“Can we eat first?!” snapped the first.

“I don’t know why you say you’ll do something if you don’t mean it,” muttered the third.

“I meant it!” argued the first. “I just had enough on my palps carrying our dinner back!”

“You can get the grass after we’ve eaten,” directed the third.

“Thank you,” hissed the first.

“And try to find some water,” suggested the second. “We’ll need some water if we’re gonna hide here.”

“Yes, dear!” snapped the first. “Anything else?!” The cave was uncomfortably silent for a few minutes. After glaring at his friends, the first Spider took a sharpened rock, ready to skin and carve the tiger.

“You know, maybe the fur will be softer than grass,” mused the second.

“Now that I think about it, you’re right,” agreed the first. “I’m saving the pelt.”

“And, looking closer,” continued the second, “we’ve got enough meat to make subs.”

“I just wish we had the materials to make bread dough,” sighed the third. “We’d have had cinnamon rolls with them.”

“Just for that,” shouted the first as he tossed the tiger’s body at the second, “YOU can carve,” he then threw a pair of rocks at the third, “and YOU can start the cooking fire!” Both of his friends shook their pedipalps at him before scuttling off to their jobs. “Honestly, I have to do everything for you guys!” the first grumbled to himself.


	29. Chapter 29

“I don’t buy this!” hissed Sorsha. “Oyed’s not supposed to break out until Realmfleet collapses!”

“What, are you blessed with the gift of prophecy?!” snarked Foresna.

“Look, I’ve got my own affairs to deal with!” snarled Sorsha. “I’ve got Sentina monkeys that have long depended on me since I first learned about biological magic during the Second Age of Unity!”

“The needs of the Realms are more important than the needs of one person!” snapped Arsha.

“All right, Ms. Closed-off Realm View!” growled Sorsha. “If you want to tussle, let’s...!”

“Hold on a minute,” called Foresna. “Arsha, weren’t you grieving the crewmates of the _Skyshell_ a minute ago?! I remember you bringing me a bit of Realmfleet law saying that all members of Realmfleet need to give aid to whatever suffering civilization needs it, whether or not they’re based on life like ours!”

“You’re not seriously defending her, are you?!” snapped Arsha.

“So that’s where it is!” cheered Sorsha as she took advantage of the distraction and scanned the area for mana. She then grabbed the small box Arsha’s rose hairpiece rested in! “That’s more than enough mana!”

“Put that back!” shouted Arsha. “That’s mine!”

“You want it?!” taunted Sorsha as she opened the box. “Come YEEOW!” A blinding light erupted from the box! Arsha and Sorsha cast spells on everyone’s eyes so they could see what’s going on.

“Okay, THAT’S new!” remarked Arsha.

“It’s never done that when Mom had it,” supplied Foresna.

“It looks almost like...but, I gave it to a Mid-realm peasant girl!” muttered Sorsha.

“YOU gave it?” asked Gorfanth.

“Hold on, are you the witch that made this?” asked Arsha.

“Witch? I’m an alchemist,” corrected Sorsha. “But, yes, I DID make it. I’m just surprised that it’s putting out so much mana.”

“I don’t remember wearing it when angry,” muttered Arsha.

“...Not even in combat?” asked Sorsha.

“That’s what his mom warned against,” replied Arsha as she pointed to Foresna. “Wear it when you’re angry and all the luck will drain from the rose.”

“...That’s not what I said at all to her!” snarled Sorsha. “I see what’s going on here!”

“What are you talking about?!” demanded Arsha.

“You need to wear it in combat so you can get the necessary strength to win!” explained Sorsha. “The side effect is that it will wilt, but then it bounces back and you can wear it again!”

“Because, of COURSE, it’s actually a weapon!” complained Arsha. “Heights forbid it’s just something you find in a fashion store! No, no, no! It has to be a Ring of Power!”

“Hush, you!” hissed Sorsha.

“Do you even know if it’s the one you made for Sendaria?” asked Foresna.

“You mean Toyandia,” replied Sorsha. “Testing to see if I remembered your mother’s earliest named ancestor?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” answered Foresna. “That’s pretty impressive. Since you got her name right, what’s the actual story behind it?”

“When I was just a younger, more stupid, Elf Maiden of 300,” began Sorsha, “I left the Longbark Family Mansion to pursue my magical career alone. Being so young, I hadn’t yet mastered what school of magic was what. I thought what I did was basic witchcraft, you know, healing magic and all that. A human woman, a small-town witch named Toyandia, knocked on the door when she saw that my garden had failed. She offered to bring it back to its full bloom. I argued that I was in the middle of making a potion to help in that regard. She asked to look at my workstation and shook her head when she saw the equipment. She asked me why I was using an alchemist’s tools instead of a witch’s. In my ‘wisdom’, I laughed at her, saying that there’s no difference. She gave me a pitying look and said she would teach me the difference. Back then, I didn’t hold humans in high regard, thinking them beneath an Elf. Boy, did SHE prove me wrong. As she continued teaching me, with all the patience of a saint, I might add, we were attacked by Mid-splitters. During the battle, my newly replenished rose garden was soaking up the spare mana and reacting wildly. I found a way to combine alchemy and witchcraft to make a rose into a weapon that wilts whenever all of its mana is drained and used it against the Splitters. They were driven off and I healed Toyandia. As I nursed her back to health with both alchemy and witchcraft, I thanked her for teaching me, apologizing for being the most stubborn woman of the Realms. After she was healed, I gave her a newly replenished rose set onto a white cloth as a hair decoration for her to have in case she needed to go into battle again. I told her not to wear it during small-time arguments or it wouldn’t be effective in battle. I warned her that not wearing it at all would result in a mana build-up that would eventually kill anyone who would wear it. But it seems as if my instructions were jumbled and misinterpreted over time as this thing is so saturated, not even battle will drain it fully.”

“Mom didn’t die of over-exposure to mana, though,” muttered Foresna.

“If I recall, she died soon after your dad did,” supplied Arsha.

“She died of a broken heart?” asked Gorfanth. “She must have been attached to your dad, Foresna.”

“No one could replace him,” answered Foresna. “When he died, she just lost her will to live, slowly wasting away until she died. Now, if I may change the subject, why a rose for a weapon?”

“It was the most prolific plant in my garden and I was desperate,” replied Sorsha.

“So, if we let you drain the rose off, since it can’t be drained naturally,” interjected Arsha, “I should get better?”

“That’s the principle,” confirmed Sorsha. “I don’t know how much mana I need from that thing, but it WILL be drained and spring back a few hours after wilting from lack of mana.” Arsha turned to Foresna.

“Well? It was your mother’s,” reminded Arsha.

“She gifted it to you after my sister said she didn’t want it,” answered Foresna. “It’s your property. Besides, the Elf over there made it.”

“...Take it,” Arsha decided. “But we WILL be in touch, I promise you.”

“Of course,” replied Sorsha. “My card.” She handed Arsha a calling card that gave her name and how to reach her. “Look, I have nothing against fighting Oyed personally, but the Giant Spiders started a blight in his name and I need to fix it.”

“Point taken, now get off my ship!” hissed Arsha. Sorsha nodded and teleported herself off the _Endeavor_.

“Just as an aside,” called Gorfanth, “I called Endea and asked her to track our Elf. What does her card say she calls herself?”

“Sorsha Longbark,” replied Arsha as she read the card. “Still, I’m not so sure about letting have it or trusting her. We could have just gotten Realmfleet to drain it off.”

“I trust Endea and her sensors,” assured Foresna. “Besides, Realmfleet might not have detected anything wrong. Somehow, I’ve got a feeling she wasn’t lying.” Arsha then stumbled. “Hey, whoa, are you okay?!”

“‘M jus...feelin...really tired,” slurred Arsha. She then collapsed. She was caught by Foresna and Gorfanth and they hauled her to bed.

“Let’s get Marshii here to check her out,” decided Gorfanth. Foresna then headed to the intercom.

“Marshii, could you come to our quarters for a minute?” he asked.

* * *

“Hey, Jokorah?” asked Sorsha once she got back home. “Is there some form of tracking on me?”

“Yep,” replied Jokorah.

“Great, let me know how else this day can go wrong,” muttered Sorsha.

“I WARNED you that invisibility spells don’t last that long!” hissed Jokorah.

“Well, better get to work,” declared Sorsha as she placed the rose into a small container.

* * *

“Repeated exposure to high amounts of mana?” asked Marshii as she checked Arsha’s sleeping form over.

“That’s what Sorsha told us,” replied Gorfanth.

“Well, she clearly knows what she’s talking about,” chuckled Marshii as she completed her scans. “Scanner just confirmed it. My recommendation; let her sleep it off. She’ll probably be out for two hours.” She then heard a noise and traced it to Arsha.

“...Hooves, PLEASE tell me you’re recording her snoring!” giggled Foresna.

“Got a video of it!” chuckled Gorfanth.

“All right, let’s just let her sleep and get out of here quiet-like,” whispered Marshii. They tiptoed out of the room and let her sleep.

* * *

“Okay, that’s WAY too much mana,” muttered Sorsha after she finished draining off the rose and making it wilt. It was collected into a flask and shone brightly.

“How many years could it have been?” asked Jokorah.

“Too many,” answered Sorsha as she began making a potion. Jokorah held his next question until Sorsha tested the new potion on a blighted mushroom patch. The mushrooms then returned to life and Sorsha took a scan.

“...Perfect! The molecular bonds have reforged themselves and are now breaking down at a much more natural rate!” she cheered.

“What will you do with the rest of the mana?” asked Jokorah.

“It’s going to take at least 10 million years for me to use it all,” remarked Sorsha. “I need to find a method of disposing it all safely. In the meantime, I’ve got potions to make.”

“I’ll tell the monkeys that their blight will soon be over,” declared Jokorah as he shifted into his Serpentine Dragon form and slithered off.

“Now, what’s made Quaynus so quiet after hearing Intrag’s returning?” mused Sorsha.

* * *

The Spider Trio had finished their dinner and were sleeping...well, trying to. The third kept waking up at every hour, on the hour. “Did you hear that?!” he yelped. “Someone’s out there! We’ve been caught!”

“Hold on, hold on,” grumbled the first as he and the second woke up. “I’ll take a look.” He pulled back the makeshift door and looked around.

“...Well?!” gulped the third.

“All clear,” reported the first.

“Are you sure?” quizzed the third. “I thought I heard something moving out there!”

“Would you relax?!” protested the second. “Nobody’s gonna find us! Quit being so twitchy!”

“Well, you’d be twitchy too,” argued the third, “if you’ve been hiding in a concealed cave for hours on end!”

“I HAVE been hiding in a concealed cave for hours on end,” muttered the first. “Now go to sleep.”

“I can’t!” whimpered the third. “I have this feeling we’re being watched!”

“Not to agree with him,” mused the second, “but promise us you’ll keep checking, please?”

“I haven’t stopped checking for hours!” snapped the first. “Why don’t one of YOU check once in a while?!”

“Okay, I will!” growled the third. “But, if there’s someone out there, YOU forced us to abandon our post!”

“You’re a pain in the spinnerets, you know that?” muttered the first. The third moved the door aside and checked. “...Nobody out there, huh?” remarked the first.

“No, but there MIGHT have been!” gulped the third.

“Quaynus will never find us!” insisted the second. “We’re safe here! Now shut up and go to sleep!”

“I can’t sleep, my nerves are shot!” whimpered the third. “And it’s all because of him!” He waved his pedipalp at the first.

“You’re just doing this because you want someone to talk at!” growled the first. “Or, maybe, your nerves are shot because you’re a pain in the spinnerets!”

“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me!” snapped the third.

“Pain in the spinnerets! Pain in the spinnerets!” sang the first.

“SSHHH!!” hissed the second. “This time, _I_ heard something! Go out and look!”

“Again?!” complained the first. “He and I both looked!”

“Please!” begged the second. “Please go look!”

“Oh, FINE!” growled the first. He pulled the door back wide. “There! Satisfied?! There’s no one out here! Now, go to sleep, you big, fat pains in the...hey, where’d the new trees come from?”

“Comparing my legs to trees, are we?” hissed a woman’s voice. The “new trees” connected to a Giant Spider’s body. The Spider was twice the size of the Spider Trio and the fangs were dripping with venom.

“...Queen Quaynus!” gulped the first. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Get out here!” ordered the Queen of the Gamfinar Giant Spiders, Quaynus.

“Your Majesty, it was his fault!” yelped the second as he pointed an accusing pedipalp at the first. “We tried to stop him!”

“It was an accident!” begged the third. “We didn’t mean to abandon our posts!”

“When I first heard you idiots had gotten distracted by the Elf,” hissed Quaynus, “I was tempted to eat all three of you in one gulp! But one of our spies had taken the opportunity to get his ballooning practice in. His journey took him to an island southeast of the beach. As he hovered, he noticed Intrag TAKING orders from a Fae instead of giving them!”

“Wait, you mean, our GOD, Intrag?” quizzed the second. “The one who brought our ancestors here?”

“How many Intrags do you know?” asked the first.

“So, what kind of light did that give to the Clergy?” inquired the third.

“They tried to secure what remained of their power,” explained Quaynus, “but the colony was tired of their excuses, so I commanded the colony to feast on the Clergy.”

“Sorry we missed that feast,” muttered the first.

“So, you’re not going to kill us?” asked the second.

“You may live,” confirmed Quaynus. “For once, you three screwed up and I’m happy about it. Now, speaking of the feast...” she then let the bag on her back drop in front of the trio. They opened the bag to find...

“Bread!” yelped the second. “Bread for subs!”

“And cinnamon rolls!” cheered the third.

“Thought you might enjoy a good meal tonight,” replied Quaynus. “I even brought some bits of the Clergy. Good job, boys. Return to the colony when you’ve finished eating.” She then stalked out of the area towards the colony.

“...Why do you suppose she did that?” asked the second.

“Why question it?” countered the third. “We actually did something good. Besides, I’m hungry again.”

“Me too,” supplied the second.

“Me three,” declared the first. “Looks like we’re having Clergy and tiger subs with cinnamon rolls.” He pointed to the second. “You cut up the bread.” He then pointed to the third. “You get the meat carved up. I’ll start the cooking fire.”


	30. Chapter 30

Arsha stirred a few hours later. She stretched and looked around her quarters, her memories of recent events returning to her mind. She then saw a note on her nightstand with her hairpiece in its box. It was brown now. She picked up the note and read it aloud. “‘Your rose is all drained of mana. You can have it store mana once it’s red again.’ ...Doggone, she wasn’t kidding. Still, I feel a lot better now. I wonder where my boys are?” She headed to the comms terminal. “Computer, locate Foresna and Gorfanth.”

“Foresna Falshenda and Gorfanth Steelhorn,” reported the computer, “are located at Barmek’s Bar and Grill.”

“Thank you,” bid Arsha. “Hey, did Marshii check me over? I thought I heard her voice before I fully went to sleep.”

“Dr. Borontho did perform a medical examination, confirming the intruder’s findings,” answered the computer.

“I better call her before I head to Barmek’s,” declared Arsha. She then connected a call to the sick bay. “Is the doctor in the house?” she asked.

“Doctor’s right here,” replied Marshii’s voice. “Enjoy your nap?”

“I certainly feel better,” answered Arsha. “You need me to come over to sick bay for an examination?”

“I’d prefer it,” affirmed Marshii. “Need to make sure you’re not still affected by excess mana.”

“Coming over,” declared Arsha.

* * *

“Well, looks like you’re all clear,” declared Marshii once the examination was done. “Though, I have to admit, seeing you in a good mood without your rose, kind of weird.”

“Noted,” muttered Arsha. “I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for the rose to return to its usual red state, but I’m willing to let it be for a while. In the meantime, I need to talk to the bridge crew, see if there’s anything new.”

“Not a bad idea,” affirmed Marshii. As Arsha got up from the bed, Dalengor came in.

“Captain!” she cheered. “Are you fully rested?”

“Sure am,” replied Arsha. “What’s up?”

“Could you get Foresna and Gorfanth off the bridge?” asked Dalengor. “I doubt they got special dispensation from you when you were napping.”

“Left Barmek’s to explore the bridge, did they?” muttered Arsha. “On my way.”

* * *

Foresna and Gorfanth were near Malak’s station. “Mr. Falshenda, Mr. Steelhorn,” growled Malak, “I must protest your unauthorized presence on the bridge!”

“Hey, what’s this one do, Mr. Molak?” asked Foresna as his finger inched towards a button.

“Please, sir!” yelped Malak as he grabbed Foresna’s hand. “That’s a torpedo launch initiator, and...and it’s Malak, not Molak.”

“Hey, this chair’s pretty comfy!” chuckled Gorfanth as he sat in the Captain’s chair.

“It’s also mine,” called Arsha as she entered the bridge. Everyone stood to attention. “We’re not undergoing an inspection,” she assured. “As you were. Now, you boys,” she pointed to Foresna and Gorfanth, “off the bridge.”

“Oh, come on!” protested Gorfanth.

“I didn’t give you special dispensation just yet,” interrupted Arsha. “There ARE areas of this ship for civilians.”

“Fine, we’ll use them,” grumbled Foresna. He then pecked Arsha on the cheek. “Good to see you up and about,” he purred.

“Glad to BE up and about,” replied Arsha. Foresna and Gorfanth then left the bridge as Arsha sat in the Captain’s chair. “Any messages?” she asked.

“A call from Rokalla at your earliest convenience,” answered Shalvey. “No mission details. He said he was fine seeing the bridge crew.”

“Call him,” directed Arsha.

“Calling...channel open,” reported Shalvey.

“On screen,” declared Arsha. Rokalla appeared on the big screen and saw the bridge crew.

“Good afternoon, _Endeavor_ ,” greeted Rokalla. “I trust things are well so far?”

“As well as they can be,” remarked Arsha. “A lot of my crew had relatives on the _Skyshell_. I’ve given them some time to reflect and mourn.”

“Well, I’ve found something that may help them lift their spirits,” declared Rokalla. “The _Endeavor_ is invited to the Over-union festival and during that time, Lardeth will undergo the Tour’s End Ceremony. I believe he’ll want to move to your ship.”

“We’d be happy to have him on board!” cheered Arsha.

“An Over-union festival!” giggled Denstra. “That would be so fun and just what we need after the fight!”

“I was talking to the Captain,” muttered Rokalla.

“Don’t tell me you’re still sore about that time when we were cadets!” grumbled Denstra.

“My record was stained forever, thanks to you!” snapped Rokalla. “I still remember the sleepless nights of scrubbing out the base with a toothbrush!”

“If we can just walk away from recollections,” called Arsha, “when is the Over-union festival?”

“It starts in two days and will last a week,” replied Rokalla.

“Perfect,” giggled Arsha. “Hey, before you go, can you tell me anything about a Sorsha Longbark?”

“That recluse?” asked Rokalla. “Yeah, she’s part of the oldest living Elf family in the Realms. She usually sells her potions anonymously. How they get to their destinations, I can’t fathom.”

“She’s snuck onboard the _Endeavor_ twice now, but she was only interested in the millions of years’ worth of mana that was stored in my rose,” answered Arsha.

“I thought there was something different about you,” remarked Rokalla. “So, she stole it?”

“No, I loaned it to her and she drained the mana off,” explained Arsha. “It should be fully regenerated now.”

“I’m going to be at the festival,” revealed Rokalla. “Maybe you can tell me the story there?”

“It might become convoluted, but sure,” replied Arsha. “In the meantime, I need to do something.”

* * *

“Aaaand, that’s it,” declared Sorsha as she completed her new device.

“So, this should increase natural mana collection?” asked Jokorah.

“That’s the theory,” replied Sorsha.

“Why can’t you people go forward with certainty?” complained Johgo as he ate a pear.

“Certainty can only get you so far,” remarked Jokorah.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” muttered Johgo. “Honestly, a group of primates learns how to make tools at a faster rate than your own and all of a sudden, they think they’re the ones in charge!”

“Should have harnessed fire!” teased Sorsha. “Now, the next thing we...we...er, Jokorah, is this an illusion of yours?!” The three weren’t in Sorsha’s cottage anymore, the walls were way too pristine and metallic for that!

“No, no, it isn’t!” gulped Jokorah.

“Where in the jungle are we?!” yelped Johgo.

“You’re actually OVER the jungle,” corrected a voice. “Where you’re IN right now is inside a _Dauntless_ -class vessel, specifically, its bridge.” The three whirled around to see Arsha sitting in the Captain’s chair, her bun once more decorated with her hairpiece. The three stared at the grinning Arsha. “No need to stop with your usual banter on my account,” chuckled Arsha as she waved. The three still stared, making Arsha a little uncomfortable. “...You really don’t handle surprises all that well, do you?”

“Your face doesn’t handle surprises all that well!” snapped Johgo.

“...Okay, so a monkey decides to do a ‘your face’ joke,” muttered Arsha. “I know about you, Ms. Longbark, but I don’t know about your friends.”

“Forest Dragon’s called Jokorah,” introduced Sorsha, “the monkey’s Johgo.” Johgo climbed up her robes and perched himself on her shoulder.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a bit,” explained Arsha. “You know Rokalla?”

“That Orc? What about him?” asked Sorsha.

“He told me that, for a while, you stole stuff,” replied Arsha. “And, from what I’ve seen, you haven’t exactly given up that habit after the trial.”

“I BORROW things,” snapped Sorsha. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I return stuff now. Speaking of which, I’ve got the mana contained, but my resources in disposing it are rather...lacking.”

“You know, you saved my bacon when we first met face to face,” recalled Arsha.

“Purely by accident,” remarked Sorsha, “but I’m glad I could help.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve picked a pretty hazardous area to make a home in,” mused Arsha.

“I’m a recluse,” answered Sorsha. “I like doing my own thing with no interruptions, especially when it comes to selling potions on Realmnet. Look, my time is precious, so, what do you want?”

“I want someone to give my own alchemists another pair of eyes to check their work,” replied Arsha, “you want to be paid to do your own thing. So, want a job?”

“I gave you my business card!” protested Sorsha. “You could have just called!”

“I could have,” conceded Arsha, “but, considering you boarded my ship twice and caught us unawares, I figured I’d show off what I can do.”

“A job?” asked Jokorah. “Like, an actual paying job?”

“Yep, and she can be as reclusive as she wants!” confirmed Arsha.

“I think I can work with that,” mused Sorsha. “So, you said another pair of eyes for your alchemists?”

“Like you,” explained Arsha, “they’re trying to find new potions to make for a body to take.”

“I think I can work with that,” replied Sorsha. “As long as the money’s no joke.”

“Perfect!” cheered Arsha. “We’ll just need weekly progress reports from you.”

“Got it,” affirmed Sorsha.

“See you later!” bid Arsha.

“Does this mean you’ll finally fix your roof?” asked Johgo.

“Hush, you!” snapped Sorsha.

“I’m just saying,” continued Johgo, “the jungle gets extremely wet whenever it rains and I can’t stand the sound of a leaky roof!” The three were then teleported off the bridge and returned to the cottage.

“Now,” sighed Arsha, “to check on Samuje.”

* * *

Arsha had connected with Marianes again to get the story. “I’m sorry to say,” sighed Marianes, “the battle’s traumatized her. She’s now scared of even boarding a Realmfleet ship. She’s resigned from Realmfleet.”

“Damn,” sighed Arsha. “Well, I can’t really blame her.”

“I’m not sure who to blame at the moment,” remarked Marianes. She fixed Arsha with a hard glare.

“Your sister and her ship and crew will be avenged, I promise,” assured Arsha.

“Part of the Kurontar Sea feels Realmfleet is to blame for being so fool-hardy in their approach to Oyed,” countered Marianes. “They feel a more ideal solution than a blind siege should have been concocted. I’ll do what I can to assure my people that Realmfleet can still be trusted, but there are people who suffered a war and lost. I believe we freed them from the Mega-sharks a while ago.”

“I still remember helping your kingdom free Roomeela and her people from slavery,” hissed Arsha.

“They’re the part that disagrees with Realmfleet’s decision,” continued Marianes. “Do what you can to help me prove them wrong. Marianes out.” The call ended and Arsha groaned.

“Well, that could have gone better,” she muttered.


	31. Chapter 31

When the crew heard they were going to the Over-union festival, they were elated! The day finally came and the _Endeavor_ was approaching the area where the festival would be held, the Zephyrs’ home of Wysper City. Shalvey made the announcement as they got closer. “Wysper Command Outpost 2, this is the _Endeavor_ , registry CRS-2784. We are currently approaching Wysper City. Requesting permission to land.”

“Standby and transmit your clearance code,” replied the operator over the line. Shalvey keyed in a command and transmitted the clearance code. “Ah, updated to new Realmfleet Standard, huh?” mused the operator. “Your code checks out. Assigning flight path 3 on account of some cloud build-up, nothing that will indicate rain, just want you to be safe.”

“We appreciate it,” assured Shalvey. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy Wysper City!” bid the operator. The call ended and Nazay maneuvered the _Endeavor_ to the flight path. They soon landed and departed to see one of Lardeth’s moms come up to them.

“There she is! One of my future daughter in laws!” she cheered. She wrapped Arsha into a huge, tight hug.

“G...good to...see you too...Queen Feymay,” strained Arsha. “Can’t...breathe!”

“Oh, no, no, no! None of that formal stuff!” declared the Queen, Feymay. “If we’re going to be family, we need to drop titles around each other! Now, come on! Let me show you all around!” She then noticed something. “Now, where did my son go?”

“I was about to say,” muttered Arsha, “I would have thought Lardeth would be here earlier than me.”

“He was here a minute ago,” remarked Feymay. “Him and Malnar and Falnii.”

“Coming!” called Lardeth’s voice. He, Falnii, and Malnar rushed up to Arsha and enveloped her into a group hug.

“It’s been WAY too long!” giggled Malnar.

“We’re missing a couple of people,” observed Falnii once the embrace broke off.

“Foresna and Gorfanth are coming,” assured Arsha. “They’re just making sure they’re absolutely ready.”

“Well, looky here!” called Foresna’s voice. He and Gorfanth then approached the group. “All six of us, together again!” cheered Foresna.

“It’s been almost a year since we were all in one place,” mused Gorfanth.

“I think we can all do with some time together,” remarked Arsha.

“Still reeling from your fight with Oyed?” asked Lardeth.

“Yeah, the whole crew is,” replied Arsha. “Some of them have family in the Over-realm, they need to reconnect with them.”

“How’s Samuje doing?” asked Falnii.

“Not well,” sighed Arsha. “She’s now scared of going onto a skyship.”

“That traumatizing, I see,” sympathized Malnar.

“I can only hope she does well for herself now,” sighed Falnii.

“So do I,” replied Arsha. “In any event, I heard you completed your tour, Lardeth.”

“Sure did!” confirmed Lardeth. “After the Tour’s End Ceremony, I’m gonna submit the paperwork needed for me, Falnii, and Malnar to live with you guys!”

“Oh, I hope Realmfleet approves it!” wished Gorfanth. “We need to stay together!”

“Agreed,” remarked Malnar, “especially with Oyed rising.”

“Well, I’ll make sure he falls permanently!” vowed Arsha.

“I’m afraid you must get in line,” called a voice. “My cousin was one of the surviving Ensigns.” Rellmeer, Felfar, and the Fae Emperor, Rellmeer’s husband, Embrek approached them.

“...Your cousin, Your Majesty?” Arsha asked Rellmeer.

“Like Samuje,” replied Rellmeer, “he is traumatized. We don’t know how badly, but the fact he suffered like that is more than enough.”

“My Lady...” began Arsha.

“Arsha, we do NOT blame you or Realmfleet in the slightest,” interrupted Embrek. “No one in the Fae Republic does and no one will.”

“The Circle of Vengeance,” continued Felfar, “is reserved for Oyed and his followers. We won’t rest until he pays for his crimes.”

“I am available if you wish for my help,” promised Arsha.

“For that, I am grateful,” bid Rellmeer. “Oyed sought to drive us apart. Well, his crimes have united us all in seeking vengeance on his head!”

“Not exactly something any Realm-union festival encourages,” remarked Embrek, “but Oyed must pay!”

“Agreed,” answered Malnar. “But we can’t exactly make a Blood Contract right now, can we?”

“No, Your Highness, we can’t,” replied Rellmeer. “We have duties to perform. Speaking of which, I believe everyone’s taking their place for the Opening Ceremony.”

“We’ll see you there!” called Arsha as Rellmeer and her family headed off.

* * *

Everyone took their place around midday. Lardeth’s cousin, Feemnaf, took her place at the podium, ready to announce the kingdoms of the Over-realm. “From the Blasarda Desert,” she began, “we have the Ignarsens, King Galtra, Queen Larana, Lola, and Ortren!” A pair of Nagas and a pair of humans made their way down the aisle as everyone cheered. They soon sat in their places. “From the Rooka Forest, we have the Stonewoods, King Elm, King Ash, King Maple, Queen Lily, their daughter, Princess Daisy, and her spouse, Mr. Hickory!” Dryads and Alarunes moved down the aisle, waving to the crowd, then sat behind the Ignarsens. “From the Drelda Forest, we have the Almaydias, Emperor Embrek, Empress Rellmeer, and their harem members, Felfar, Moralma, Alma, Korla, and Granthin!” The two Fairies and Felfar were accompanied by a human, a Sprite, another Fairy, and a Pixie, all female. They sat next to the Stonewoods after they walked down the aisle. “From the Chromanian Sea Merfolk Kingdom, we have the Janfos, Queen Shenfam, Queen Glanmaj, Queen Kalmarit, and their daughter, Princess Keyumta!” A middle-aged Mermaid, a pair of middle-aged Cecaelia women, and a young Mermaid glided down the aisle in water chairs like Shalvey, taking their seats on the other side of the Stonewoods. “From the Coliamdii Kingdom, we have the Yantorus, King Tegnar, King Lektem, their daughter, Princess Tanshwee, and her spouse, Lord Yentak!” Lardeth arched an eyebrow as the Yantorus walked down the aisle and sat near the Almaydias.

“Where’s Mariah and Namdaresh?” he muttered.

“We’ll need to ask Tanshwee,” mused Arsha.

“From the Lunarimba Sea Merfolk Kingdom,” continued Feemnaf, “we have the Yantefas, King Hindegar, Queen Ulumeye, their son, Price Ventiko, and his spouse, Mr. Genjokuu!” The Yantefas had water-chairs as well and glided down the aisle to their spot near the Yantorus. “From the Falchineve Drider Colony, we have the Tolandahs, King Hekcho, Queen Yumbii, their harem member, Yulumei, and their children, Prince Vetam and Princess Yetam!” The Tolandahs walked down the aisle, their legs moving in their usual, purposeful manner, and set themselves in front of the Ignarsens. “From the Altiam Mountains, we have the Stonefoots, King Gekshar, his daughter, Yelem, and her spouse, Lord Yenter!” A trio of Dwarves stomped down the aisle and raised their hammers, earning cheers as they sat next to the Tolandahs. “From the Ralandren Plains, we have the Untarfus, King Heenda, his harem member, Laumney, and their son, Kunfar!” A Centaur trio trotted down the aisle, the woman hanging on the arm of the King, and sat themselves next to the Stonefoots. “From the Regalin Sea Merfolk Kingdom, we have the Yalunais, King Jeemar, King Jeltam, their harem member, Leefal, and their children, Prince Kajna and Princess Loomo!” Three Cecaelias, with the two men each holding a child, came down the aisle and sat next to the Untarfus. “From the Calando Merfolk Kingdom, we have the Ilmators with their psychiatrist, King Keymat, Queen Yalmu, Princess Malmee, and Dr. Anya Pastella!” More water-chairs took the Merfolk down the aisle and set them on the other side of the Ignarsens. “From Dwalna City, we have the Yerumals, King Henjar, his daughter, Princess Ferga, the High-Witch of Dwalna City, Lady Empria Dewlna, and the city’s wish-granter, Loolee Albrina!”

“Loolee?” asked Malnar as three humans and a genie woman came down the aisle. “Last time I met her was on my tour. I thought she couldn’t leave the city, being bound to it.”

“Maybe one of them wished for her to see the festival,” mused Gorfanth as the Yerumal party sat by the Ilmator party.

“From the Sacchrinda Kingdom,” Feemnaf went on, “we have the Maropwems, King Jonthar, Queen Keelma, and their daughters, Princess Rosalmia, Princess Orsanmii, Princess Yasinma, Princess Grenmaf, Princess Blamfem, Princess Pinalk, and Princess Purhalmaf!” A Fairy man and a human woman led their seven identical daughters down the aisle. The daughters looked and dressed alike, only being told apart by the colors of their dresses, hair, and eyes. While they were Blenders, they didn’t have the wings or antennae of their father, just his biological immortality. They sat behind the Yerumal party and turned their attention down the aisle. “From Vorkath, we have the Lorpeths, King Belnki and Queen Balma!” Belnki and Balma came down the aisle and sat by the Maropwems. Arsha noticed that Balma had her hand on her belly.

“Could she be...?” she muttered to herself.

“And last, but not least,” called Feemnaf as she got out dozens of water bottles, “hosting the Festival, from right here in Wysper City, we have my aunts’ family, the Felomphas, Queen Feymay, Queen Emfam, Queen Roomef, Queen Jeefef, Queen Olmarfa, Queen Ufnamfa, Queen Teefmanam, Queen Pofomofo, King Endram, and their children...” she took a swig of water before rattling off the royal heirs, “Princess Welmaf, Princess Wamfar, Princess Eemaf, Princess Yelmef, Princess Memfee, Princess Domamfem, Princess Pemfem, Princess Prefamal, Princess Yomfu, Princess Twayfar...” another swig before going on, “Princess Teefem, Princess Tomnuf, Princess Fanfum, Princess Regaph, Princess Phormof, Princess Pefmaph, Princess Mophoj, Princess Yenpheer...” yet another swig, “Princess Flamfer, Princess Yulnef, Princess Fehgar, Princess Doful, Princess Demphar, Princess Sumamf, Princess Yumeef, Princess Emfal...” another swig, “Princess Yemfet, Princess Rupafur, Princess Tumfem, Princess Quafaph, Princess Toofan, Princess Teyfarmaf, Princess Erpaph, Princess Wenthoph...” this time, she guzzled her water, “Princess Remfamto, Princess Iftaph, Princess Vumfaf, Princess Leemoth, Princess Wurmamph...” another guzzle of water, “and Crown Prince of the Over-realm, Lardeth of the Over-realm’s capital, Wysper City with his fiancés, Ambassador Falnii Loftanaf of Wysper City, Crown Princess of the Mid-Realm, Arsha Royana of the Mid-realm’s capital of Largandra, Mr. Foresna Falshenda of the Mid-realm village of Rokanth, Crown Princess of the Under-realm, Malnar Emboramii of the Under-realm’s capital citadel of Belsnath, and Mr. Gorfanth Steelhorn of the Under-realm’s Galdredan Lava Kingdom! PHEW!” She had one last guzzling of water before she continued. “By the Ones, I thought my immediate family was big!” This earned a chuckle from the audience. “Now, all in attendance must launch a fireball into the torch to begin the Festival!” The golden bowl that surrounded the giant wick was really large, so there was no chance of missing the actual torch. After everyone launched their fireballs, fireworks were launched as the torch’s flame leapt into the air! “I hereby pronounce the Over-union Festival...OPEN!” Everyone cheered at that proclamation. Soon, the booths opened and displayed the technological prowess of the Over-realm! Arsha and her spouses wandered around for a bit, marveling at the technological advancements on display.

“Wow!” breathed Arsha as she goggled at a new type of train. Her childhood was coming to the forefront. “Look at the design of the boiler! So streamlined! What’s that thing’s max speed?! I gotta know!”

“I heard you liked trains,” remarked Lardeth, “but I never realized how much.”

“Are you kidding me?!” asked Arsha. “Can you imagine how the original designer thought of making his first engine?! He must have looked at a kettle on the stove and wondered ‘How can I make this thing move?’! It’s so amazing!”

“I wonder if they’re going to make this thing a Mechanica,” mused Foresna.

“If it’s even allowed to become one,” muttered Lardeth.

“What do you mean?” quizzed Arsha.

“There have rumors going around the Realmfleet High Council,” explained Lardeth, “that Uluntan’s decision is going to be revoked and Mechanicas will be stripped of their rights, something the Conservatives are very keen to do.”

“What in the Realms for?!” demanded Arsha as she transferred her hairpiece to her waist.

“The same old arguments that Uluntan heard during the trial,” replied Lardeth, “that they’re just machines that shouldn’t have come to life in the first place.”

“What a load!” snapped Foresna. “Who are these people and why do you royals need to pay them any attention?!”

“Um, I don’t think we need to worry,” Falnii interjected softly.

“Why’s that, Fluffy?” asked Malnar.

“Well,” replied Falnii, “Councilor Genthar’s stepped down as the leader of the Conservative Party.”

“Has he now?!” cheered Malnar as everyone’s mood brightened. “Well, they’re gonna be too busy with that to worry about Mechanicas.”

“Darn straight!” agreed Arsha as she put her hairpiece back onto her bun. “The Conservatives will be scrounging to find a replacement and the Futurists will exploit this leadership clash to no end!”

“There’s still the Populists to consider,” reminded Lardeth. “They’re not exactly as friendly with Chimeras, who knows what their views on Mechanicas are. I wonder how many of them will try to pass Conservative policies.”

“Mom had a saying about politicians with no term limits,” mused Arsha, “they only have two priorities: staying in office and bad-mouthing the opposition.”

“Isn’t she one?” asked Falnii.

“Yeah, our parents certainly are,” agreed Malnar as she pointed to herself, Lardeth, and Arsha.

“Mom’s called royal families figureheads; thus we’re exempt from that definition,” replied Arsha.

“I can’t say as I agree with her,” remarked Lardeth. “As it stands now, we currently have the most political power and the most amounts of resources to enact...it...” He trailed off as he saw something drifting down from the sky. “...I must be seeing things!”

“Me too!” yelped Falnii. “Snow?! I can’t remember the last time it snowed this early!”

“I don’t think it has!” replied Lardeth.

“I can’t remember seeing snow at this point in an Over-realm winter!” supplied Malnar.

“I can already hear the rail-people grumbling,” muttered Lardeth.

“Come on, Princess, be fair,” chided Arsha. “They’re right to grumble. The snow DOES bring a whole host of problems, a few cancelled trains, icy rails, curtailed speed, various businesses rushing to complete their orders before closing for the season, and poor visibility, if there’s really bad fog.” That’s when fog started creeping in. “...Case in point,” muttered Arsha.

“Well, looks like a few activities during the week will be cancelled,” sighed Lardeth.

“You know, I think Rosalmia will have a harder time finding another lover,” mused Malnar. “Princess, you’re her best friend, how many lovers does she have now?”

“I have a hard time keeping up with all my sisters,” replied Lardeth. “I never really learned all of her lovers’ names.”


	32. Chapter 32

The civilizations that lived on the edge of the Over-realm’s Eastern continent were rather flat when it came to the terrain. As such, there was extraordinarily little of Wysper City that was safe from the fog and snow. On top of its seaside location, the city was the second leading city in terms of rail traffic, with the Sacchrinda Kingdom being the foremost leader. As Arsha predicted, because of the weather, more than a few trains had to be cancelled and the businesses that depended on the railway rushed to get their last shipments out to the ports so they could be exported to the other continents or to the other Realms. Lardeth and his lovers were staying at the Felomphas’ castle and he was looking out the balcony of his room during the night. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yes?” he asked.

“May we come in, my little princess?” called Roomef’s voice.

“Sure, Mama,” replied Lardeth. Roomef, Endram, Domamfem, Twayfar, and all of his lovers entered the room.

“We looked at the calendar,” explained Arsha. “Your mom explained what this week also meant to you.”

“Thinking about your dad?” asked Endram.

“Are you referring to yourself?” quizzed Lardeth.

“I’m talking about your actual father, the human that was King before me,” replied Endram.

“…Yeah, I was,” sighed Lardeth. “I thought I’d be over this by now, but I still miss him.”

“We all do,” assured Roomef. “When one loses a family member, you never really ‘get over it’.”

“I frankly wish I met him,” remarked Endram. “He sounded like a good man.”

“With a fault that led to his downfall,” muttered Twayfar.

“Twayfar!” hissed Roomef.

“Downfall?” asked Gorfanth. “What downfall?”

“The reason why he died,” replied Lardeth. “I told you guys about it, I’m sure.”

“I can’t say as I’ve heard the story,” countered Arsha.

“Not me,” supplied Malnar.

“I’m not familiar with the story,” rumbled Gorfanth.

“Me neither,” finished Foresna.

“I think I’m the only one who knows the story,” mumbled Falnii.

“Do you guys…want to hear it?” asked Domamfem.

“Domamfem, consider what you’re doing,” warned Roomef.

“She’s right, Mama,” declared Lardeth. “We’re not gonna change history by ignoring it.”

“Did your father…do something wrong?” asked Malnar.

“Oh yes, he did,” confirmed Lardeth. “My father, a human named Yentil, was once an engine driver for the Great Wysper Northern Railway. Even when he was King, the Railway still called on him to help out.”

“I love Yentil dearly and miss him so much,” continued Roomef, “but, without question, he was the most boastful man I had ever met!”

“He always went on and on about his ‘spotless record’,” explained Twayfar. “Always going on about how he had never once been late! More often than not, it put us all to sleep!”

“But the real kicker of it,” supplied Domamfem, “was that it was all true!”

“True?” asked Arsha. “I’ve been around a few railways before and I find it hard to believe that anyone could have a spotless record.”

“So did I,” remarked Roomef, “but the Railway’s manager gave me his official record and it was, indeed, spotless. Somehow, he had always delivered his trains on time and without fail.”

“He also wasn’t shy about calling out an engine’s crew if they were late,” continued Domamfem, “even if they were his co-workers.”

“And his fire-woman, a Frostik named Entam, was just as boastful,” supplied Lardeth. “I remember her prattle when she visited. I always believed that their arrogance led to their downfall.”

“Sounds like they suffered a fatal accident,” guessed Malnar.

“Accident, tragedy, take your pick,” answered Twayfar. “It was about 200 years ago when Dad and Entam had to take a late-night express passenger train. They suffered a delay and couldn’t get out of the station fast enough when they were finally allowed to leave.”

“Now, when the Great Wysper Northern Railway was in operation,” elaborated Domamfem, “their main line went around a mountain and it had a sharp two and a half por deep ravine. With so many twists and sharp turns, you HAD to take it slow or else fall. Sadly, that night had weather like tonight. With poor visibility, icy rails, and Dad and Entam’s desire to maintain their spotless record, thus causing them to go at a criminally reckless speed, it was small wonder what happened.”

“…They…they crashed?” gasped Foresna.

“The train jumped the track at the first sharp bend,” confirmed Lardeth. “The engine and coaches must have bounced at least a por forward once they hit the bottom of the ravine. My dad and Entam died in the impact, but that wasn’t the worst of it.”

“I’m probably tempting fate here,” gulped Malnar, “but what’s worse than that?!”

“Every man, woman, and child in those coaches died as well,” answered Roomef. “The tragedy ruined the railway’s image forever, thus leading it to close. Some of the engines and rolling stock were sold to Imperial Rails as well as some of the branch lines and main line, but the mountain path had its rails ripped up.”

“Dad’s engine and the coaches were scrapped after the bodies were recovered and interred at the cemetery,” continued Twayfar. “But that’s not the end of it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Malnar.

“Come on, Twayfar!” snapped Lardeth. “Not that again! I thought you gave it up a hundred years ago!”

“How many mountaineers have seen it?!” argued Twayfar. “How many?! They can’t all be wrong!”

“They can’t all be right, either!” countered Domamfem.

“What are you guys talking about?” asked Arsha. Lardeth sighed before continuing.

“It’s believed that every year,” he explained, “around the time of the accident, the ghosts of Dad, Entam, and the passengers ride a spectral train, desperate to make it to the journey’s end so they can move on.”

“Ghosts? In the Over-realm?” asked Malnar incredulously.

“Take it from someone who survived a Wraith,” supplied Arsha. “The only time you’ll ever see a ghost occur outside of the Under-realm is if Oyed’s had a hand in it.”

“Even then,” continued Malnar, “ghosts in the Under-realm are pretty uncommon unless you’re in the Belsnath citadel.”

“Thank you, Malnar, Arsha,” bid Lardeth.

“Just out of curiosity,” interjected Falnii, “when…?”

“This week,” replied Twayfar. “So look out if you’re planning to visit the mountains.”

“Twayfar, stop that!” snapped Lardeth as he jabbed her arm with his elbow.

“Lardeth’s right,” supplied Endram. “You’re going on about nonsense.”

“So, you DON’T believe Yentil’s ghost can manifest here?” Gorfanth asked everyone.

“Somehow, this twit does!” remarked Lardeth as he pointed to Twayfar.

“Lardeth!” snapped Roomef.

“…Sorry,” he mumbled.

“In any event, Lardeth IS right,” assured Roomef. “Yentil’s ghost has NOT manifested here. Now, I don’t know about you lot, but I’m going to bed.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” yawned Endram. “Tomorrow’s Lardeth’s Tour’s End Ceremony and we need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! Good night, my dears!”

“Good night!” everyone bid as Roomef, Endram, Domamfem, and Twayfar left the room.

“I think we all better hit the hay,” declared Arsha.

“My bed’s always open for everyone,” offered Lardeth.

“That sounds excellent,” sighed Falnii happily. Everyone went into Lardeth’s bathroom and changed into their nightclothes. They then brushed their teeth and then they laid down on the mattress. Zephyrs never needed blankets as their clouds always kept them warm at nights. Falnii and Lardeth combined and expanded their clouds to wrap everyone into it. Soon, they all drifted off to sleep, at least, they all tried. Falnii couldn’t sleep, her mind still on the story of the death of Lardeth’s father. She tossed and turned between Gorfanth and Lardeth. Gorfanth felt her moving and so moved to face her.

“Something wrong, Fluffy?” he asked.

“I can’t sleep at all,” mumbled Falnii. “All those people gone, an entire railway closed, Lardeth having lost his father, it’s just too much!”

“It’s all right,” soothed Gorfanth as he pulled Falnii closer to him. “Lardeth would tell us if it affects him really bad. He’s open like that.”

“…Yeah, he is,” agreed Falnii. “It’s just that…no one should die like that.”

“No,” agreed Gorfanth.

“…You mind if I just rest my head on your chest a bit?” asked Falnii. “I need something to calm me and your breathing tends to do it.”

“That’s if you can hear my breathing over Arsha’s snoring!” grumbled Gorfanth. Falnii sat up and looked at Arsha. She was, indeed, snoring loudly and annoying Lardeth, Foresna, and Malnar.

“That’s Arsha?” quizzed Falnii. “I thought it was a large group of Dryads taking a late-night jog.” Malnar couldn’t take it anymore. She jabbed her elbow into Arsha’s side, waking her up.

“Whuzzu…?” yelped Arsha.

“Why don’t you take a decongestant?!” growled Malnar.

“What are you talking about, Bonfire?” asked Arsha sleepily. Foresna then sat up.

“You snore like a congested elephant!” he snapped.

“I do NOT snore,” protested Arsha, “and I do NOT believe that you recorded me when I took my nap after Sorsha got my hairpiece away from me! In fact, the video box was from one of _Natural Realms_ ’ series, _Songs of the Whales_!”

“So, you’re telling us that whale watchers can’t tell the difference,” snarked Lardeth, “between your snoring and the sounds of a 39 kantek, kelp-scarfing mammal?” He got hit in the face with the pillow for that.

“I don’t care what anyone says, I don’t snore!” hissed Arsha as she turned over.

“Denial, thy name is…” Malnar was interrupted by the door bursting open, revealing Feymay in a nightgown, a facial pack, and curlers in her cloudy hair.

“WILL YOU KIDS KEEP IT DOWN?!” she roared. “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!”

“…Sorry, Mama!” squeaked Lardeth. Feymay left the room and slammed the door to emphasize her point. Everyone then laid back down and uneasily went to sleep.

* * *

The morning came and everyone was at an old railway station, long abandoned after it closed. Lardeth’s family stood on the platform as everyone sat in chairs going across the old track. There was an aisle in the center and it extended as the entire crew of the _High Sky_ formed the rest of the aisle leading to the landing ramp of the ship. Lardeth then appeared, trailing his belongings behind him in a suitcase and a gym bag. He hesitated in leaving only to place his hand on the hull and wish the ship goodbye and good luck. He then looked down the aisle and saw the entire crew looking at him. After those few seconds, he then headed down the ramp and down the aisle, taking in all the faces of every ensign, lieutenant, commander, and officer under his command. He soon approached the station and set his stuff aside as he knelt in front of his parents. “Lardeth Felompha,” began Emfam, “you have been away from home for five years, serving Realmfleet and expanding your knowledge. What have you learned?”

“My decisions impacted the whole crew, no matter how small,” replied Lardeth. “If that is true for such a small scale, I can only imagine how true that is for the entire Over-realm. Still, I refuse to back away from the crown. The people still need someone to assist them in keeping the Realm running and that someone is me. I may be worried about the power I have now, but I won’t live in fear of it. Besides, I know I have people willing to give me a smack upside the head if I go too far. My ultimate lesson is that power is nothing if it isn’t shared.”

“Then your tour has been instrumental in your growth!” declared Emfam. “We have no doubts that you will lead us well when you ascend to the throne. Rise, Lardeth Felompha, Crown Prince of the entire Over-realm!” Lardeth rose and faced the audience as they applauded.

“Thank you, all of you,” he called. “I couldn’t have gone anywhere without your help.”

“Just doing what we can, Your Highness,” replied his First Officer, a Sea Dragon, Commander Standral. The instant he finished; a Merman came next to Lardeth in a water-chair.

“Ah, Captain Engrast!” greeted Lardeth. “Welcome! I take it, you’re taking command of the _High Sky_ now?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” replied Engrast. His response was crisp and formal.

“At ease, Captain,” assured Lardeth. “Speak freely.” Engrast still considered his words before he spoke.

“You’ve left some pretty big shoes to fill,” he remarked.

“I know that the _High Sky_ is in good hands with you in the Captain’s Chair,” replied Lardeth. They shook hands and Engrast glided down the aisle as his new crewmates followed him back into the ship. Once everyone had filed out, Lardeth, his lovers, and his family returned to the castle and had dinner.

“So, what else will we be doing?” asked Arsha.

“I was thinking of bringing you guys on a rail excursion to the Nimbus Theater,” replied Lardeth. “The Three Maidens are performing there and they’ve got Curlandii back.”

“A Three Maidens act with Curlandii?” chuckled Malnar. “I know we’re in for a good time!”

“Let’s just hope we can get there in time with all the fog,” muttered Gorfanth.

“Isn’t there a local mana crystal shortage?” asked Falnii.

“That’s only because the mine doesn’t have its own shunter,” replied Lardeth. “There’s plenty of mana crystals, but no efficient system to get it all out.”

“That’s changing tomorrow,” called Olmarfa. “Yaldem Jr. purchased an engine for the mines.”

“Did he now?” cheered Lardeth. “Well, sounds like the mines are about to be much more efficient!”


	33. Chapter 33

One of the most vital industries that never shuts down, no matter the weather, was the mana crystal mining industry. This was the main fuel source for most vehicles, especially steam engines. Instead of coal in the firebox, the fireman would heat up a mana crystal and toss it into the firebox, thus boiling the water. When this discovery was made, railways all across the Realms chose to use it as it takes an extremely long time for a mine to be exhausted, even when the mines employ Dwarves and Goblins as miners. Although, for such a vital industry, sadly, one of the mining operations on the northern edge of Wysper City, the Yaldem and Son Mine, was VERY inefficient. The reason for this was that the founder and manager, Mr. Yaldem, was something of a money hoarder. For some odd reason, he never looked at the long-term benefits of having a dedicated shunter to arrange the mine’s inbound and outbound trains. Thus, he calculated it was cheaper to pay a shunting fee rather than have an onsite engine.

This was an extremely poor arrangement as it left the two major rail companies, Imperial Rail and Northern Regional, to argue over who got to use the chutes first with the wagons being left everywhere. It got so bad that, when he took over a day before Lardeth’s Tour’s End Ceremony, Yaldem’s son purchased an engine, much to the indignation of his father. This engine was a rail-type Mechanica, where an upper torso took the place of the smokebox and funnel. She looked and dressed sternly. The day she arrived, she found two more rail-type Mechanicas and their crews arguing at the chutes. Both of the engines were tank engines and they wore the liveries of their respective companies, Imperial Rail and Northern Regional. “For the last time, Golu, NO!” shouted the Imperial Rail tank engine.

“You’ve been holding up the wagons since I arrived, Jenmar!” snapped the Norther Regional tank engine, Golu.

“That’s because I need to fill a big order of mana crystals!” argued the Imperial Rail tank engine, Jenmar. “You can check with Yaldem Jr.!”

“Well, get your pistons moving!” barked Golu. “I’ve got a shipment of my own to take back to Endel Town or the others won’t move come tomorrow!”

“I fail to see the issue!” laughed Jenmar.

“Now, just what’s going on here?!” barked the new engine as she steamed into the mine yard.

“Who are you?!” demanded Golu.

“I’m Henthal, the new shunter,” introduced the engine.

“An old lady like you?!” protested Golu. “You’re pulling my side rods!”

“Looking at you,” remarked the new engine, Henthal, as she peered through her lorgnette, “it’s no wonder I’m needed!”

“Where do you get off making THAT comment?!” demanded Golu.

“If you’ve been the mine’s shunter,” Henthal continued severely, “I’m amazed it hasn’t closed! Just look at the state of the wagons! All over the place!”

“First off, I’m not the shunter!” snapped Golu. “Second, is that anyway for a lady to talk?”

“You tell me!” declared Henthal. Jenmar laughed at that.

“Button it, Pipsqueak!” growled Golu.

“All right, I’ve wasted enough time with you!” hissed Henthal. “Clear off and let a REAL shunter do her work!” Golu growled before he chuffed away. “Now, to something more pleasant,” mused Henthal as she peered less severely through her lorgnette at Jenmar. “Is that you, Young Jenmar?”

“That it is!” replied Jenmar. “So the board finally purchased an engine?”

“...’Finally’?” asked Henthal.

“Yeah, the mine never had its own shunter,” explained Jenmar. “That changed when the mine’s owner took over the business.”

“Now I’m REALLY amazed it hasn’t closed!” breathed Henthal as she folded her lorgnette.

“We all are,” called a man’s voice. A Zephyr man then glided up to the two engines. “Welcome to the Yaldem and Son Mine, Henthal. I’m Yaldem Jr. the current owner.”

“So you’re the one in charge,” realized Henthal. “I have a feeling you’ll make for an excellent manager.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” replied Yaldem Jr. “This mine needs to be put in order on the double. According to the schedule, Jenmar needs to get his colleagues at their base of operations, the Financial North Sector.”

“Then I may as well get started,” declared Henthal. “How many wagons?”

“13 and a brake-van,” answered Yaldem Jr. “If you could arrange it on track 2, that would be excellent. After that, Golu needs a 12 wagon train for his people. Set that on track 1.” He handed her a map of the mines and she looked it over before setting to work. In the few days she worked, exportation soon increased as she implemented an efficient system that appeased both rail companies, getting all trains out in a timely manner. During the week, Queen Olmarfa, King Endram, Princess Vumfaf, Rellmeer, and Felfar visited the mines. Olmarfa had seen a report about the sudden spike in exportations from the mines and wanted to see the results. When the tour wound down, she asked that her party take a ride back to the Royal Sector. Jenmar returned as he needed to take another train to the Royal Sector and so his conductor offered to give them a ride in the brake-van. It was late in the afternoon when they finally set out and by the time they were passing by the old mountain path of the Great Northern Wysper Railway, night had fallen. Jenmar liked a good nighttime run. However, this particular run would take a turn for the odd. As he puffed down the line, he heard a far off whistle.

“Hey, can anyone recognize that?” he asked his crew.

“Nope,” replied his driver as she checked the speed.

“Not me,” confirmed his fireman. They then saw a pillar of something cloudy coming around the pass. “...That line’s closed, ain’t it?” asked the fireman.

“It should be,” remarked the driver. Then, it happened! The source of the clouds, a steam engine, came flying off the path and plunged into the ravine! Everyone saw it fall and Jenmar applied his brakes.

“Good grief!” he yelped. The brake-van’s occupants saw the engine fall too.

“That’s never a good sign!” yelped Vumfaf.

“That was a passenger train too!” gulped Rellmeer. “Get the emergency services! I’ll fly over there to see what I can do!” She flew out of the brake-van at top speed and dove into the ravine. What she saw, or rather, DIDN’T see, defied her sense of logic. Her communicator rang, signaling that Felfar was calling. She picked up.

“How bad is it, Mistress?” asked Felfar.

“Er, Felfar, could you go on speaker?” asked Rellmeer.

“...Sure,” replied Felfar. After a few seconds, Felfar confirmed everyone was on speaker.

“Guys, I don’t know how else to say this, but there’s no train-wreck here,” reported Rellmeer.

“...Tea rasamna roosmad, Faleemna,” remarked Felfar in Ancient Fae. “We all saw it!”

“Come over here and then see if I need my eyes checked!” challenged Rellmeer. The conductor traced the signal and teleported everyone to Rellmeer’s location.

“What the?!” spluttered Felfar. Rellmeer was right, there was nothing to indicate the remains of a train. “Wh...where is it?!”

“I’m...not sure!” gulped Olmarfa.

“You...did SEE the train fall, didn’t you?” asked Vumfaf to everyone.

“I sure did,” confirmed Endram.

“There’s...nothing here,” muttered the conductor as he scratched his head. “No rubble at all.”

“Maybe we saw wrong, or heard wrong,” suggested Rellmeer.

“We all saw or heard wrong a passenger train falling down a two and a half por ravine?” asked Felfar. “That sounds unlikely.”

“What other explanation is there?” asked Olmarfa.

“Wait, that path was part of the old Great Northern Wysper Railway’s mainline, right?” asked Vumfaf.

“Yeah, but it was ripped up after...the railway...closed...” Olmarfa trailed off as she remembered the aftermath. “...How was a train going on that path with no rails?!”

“...It has to be!” guessed Vumfaf.

“Has to be what?” asked Felfar.

“No, it isn’t!” snapped Olmarfa as she shook her head and crossed her arms.

“But this is around the time that it’s supposed to appear!” insisted Vumfaf.

“Vumfaf, your father’s ghost can’t manifest!” argued Olmarfa. “There’s another explanation and we’ll find it!” If only everyone else agreed with that statement, but the nearby townsfolk also heard the crash and came out in droves to see it. Much like Olmarfa’s group, they were just as confused when they didn’t see anything that indicated a crash. This event attracted the attention of a reporter who, after conducting interviews and research, published an article about the former King’s death and the ghost story that followed. After the article made the papers, there was a spike in alleged sightings. Throughout this time, Lardeth remained a skeptic, fully under the impression that the sightings were nothing more than the power of suggestion. He held on to that view until he and his lovers had their own encounter.

* * *

Lardeth had taken his fiancés to the theater in the northern suburbs of Wysper City. Because of weather conditions, the journey took two and a half hours. They still made it in time to see the Three Maidens, a comedy trio of Elf women that were...on the low end of the intelligence spectrum. Their names were Moru, Larima, and Curlandii. Moru was the one in charge with the short fuse, Larima was the straight-person of the group, and Curlandii was the childish one who usually starts the antics the three get into. The plot of the skit the six saw was that the Three Maidens tried to sell a flycatcher, but get caught up in a mob racket that results in them thinking that the window dummy they shot was a real person and so they tried to bury the dummy in the local pet cemetery. The six were still laughing at the whole thing as they waited at the station for the train back. “Man, those three are still a riot, even after 50,000 years!” giggled Arsha.

“I’m surprised Curlandii came back,” mused Gorfanth. “I thought she had retired.”

“I guess actors don’t take retirement all too well,” guessed Malnar. Just then, they heard a train whistle in the distance. “That’s quick,” muttered Malnar.

“It shouldn’t have arrived this early,” remarked Arsha. Just then, the Zephyr stationmaster came out of her office. “Excuse me,” called Arsha, “I thought the last train’s not due for another 10 minutes.”

“It isn’t,” replied the stationmaster. “That wasn’t any whistle I recognize.” That was when the mystery train steamed in. It carried coaches behind it and the engine’s crew consisted of a male human and a female Frostik. The stationmaster approached the engine’s cab and spoke to the crew. “Excuse me, you’re not on the schedule,” she called. “Who gave you clearance to stop here?” The crew didn’t say a word. “I’m talking to you two!” snapped the stationmaster. She tried to get them to talk for a good 10 minutes as a crowd gathered around her. She finally made her decision. “All right, I’m ordering you two to get out of your engine!” They didn’t move. “I warn you,” growled the stationmaster as she prepared to cast a lightning spell, “failure to comply with a railway official will result in...” That was when a chilling scream of terror tore through everyone’s ears. The reason for such a scream was because an elderly Zephyr woman dared to press her face against the window of the coach. The scream made everyone on the platform to jump back. Whatever she saw inside, she became hysterical. Unfortunately, some cruel trick of fate made the situation worse as another whistle announced another train’s approach. “Oh no!” yelped the stationmaster. “That’s the last train!” She pulled out a whistle and blew hard, causing a few passengers to hold their ears. The noise of brakes trying to stop the train then followed, but, thanks to icy rails, the train skidded closer and closer to the mystery train. Everyone cleared the area in case of a crash, which didn’t happen. The mystery train just vanished out of existence, allowing the last passenger train to skid just a little further before finally stopping. A few doctors that were among the passengers checked everyone over. Once they were cleared, Arsha, her fiancés, and the stationmaster dashed towards the engine with a doctor in tow. The crew, a pair of middle-aged Zephyr women, stood in the engine’s cab in fear.

“Ms. Yanfar?” asked Lardeth. The firewoman then turned her head slowly, her face plastered with fear. “Ms. Yanfar, are you all right?” quizzed Lardeth.

“There was...a train...at the platform...wasn’t there?” asked Ms. Yanfar.

“There was,” replied Lardeth.

“And then...there wasn’t?” stammered Ms. Yanfar.

“Right again, Ma’am,” confirmed Malnar.

“H...how...?”

“We don’t know,” replied the stationmaster.

“I do,” interjected Malnar. “When you’ve lived as long as I have in the Belsnath citadel, you tend to pick up on some things, SPECTRAL things.”

“...Are you saying...?” gulped Ms. Yanfar as the doctor checked her over.

“That train was a ghost train,” confirmed Malnar.

“Then it IS true!” yelped Falnii. “Lardeth’s dad haunts the old line on a ghost train!”

“Bu...but...!” protested Lardeth.

“Lardeth, I’m sorry, but your dad’s ghost HAS manifested here,” insisted Malnar. Lardeth sighed.

“I owe my sisters an apology,” he muttered.


	34. Chapter 34

The events at the station would make the papers, the story made all the more tragic that the woman who looked into the ghost train’s coaches was reduced to a gibbering wreck. She spent the rest of her days being looked after by orderlies and her family; her mind forever trapped in a state of horror. The mood of the festival dropped dramatically, with most people not daring to go outside for fear of encountering the ghost. The railways suffered the brunt of it as the passengers and goods clients of both companies avoided them like they were devil-spawn from the Depths. Those that were still determined to try and enjoy the festival also saw Yentil’s ghost train, causing a wide-spread dip in morale. The situation became so unbearable, Jenmar, Golu, Henthal, and the royal families came together to deal with the problem. “All right,” began Roomef, “so we all know why we’re here?”

“No,” snarked King Lektem, “why don’t you remind us?”

“Put a sock in it, Lektem!” hissed his husband, Tegnar.

“Thank you, Tegnar,” bid Roomef. “Now this...ghost...has been terrorizing everyone for the better half of the festival and we need to find a way to get rid of it. Now, Princess Malnar studies ghosts as a hobby, even going so far as to publish her findings in various academic journals, so I’ll give her the floor.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” replied Malnar. “Now, I’m gonna open with this: it defies all expectations in spectral science. The only reason ghosts have an opportunity to manifest back home is because of our slightly liberal use of dark magic. The magic weakened the veil between the living and the dead. As far as I’m aware, the Over-realm never even touched dark magic, so it should be impossible for a ghost to manifest. This is a rather unique situation, so, as far as I’m concerned, there aren’t any dumb ideas. If you have one, put it forward.”

“How about getting your mother to perform an exorcism?” asked Queen Yumbii.

“I love my mother dearly,” answered Malnar, “but she’s terrible at exorcisms.”

“Maybe we should get one of her colleagues,” suggested Jeltam.

“It would take too long for them to get here,” replied Malnar. “We can’t afford to wait.”

“Maybe we should talk to him,” mused Jenmar. “Ask him to leave and he may do so.”

“About that, Jenmar,” interjected Lardeth, “did you or your passengers and crew get a good view of the ghost train?”

“I was too far away to get any details,” replied Jenmar.

“I got a good look at it,” called Rellmeer.

“Thank goodness for the Fae’s telescopic vision,” sighed Felfar.

“What did the engine look like?” asked Lardeth.

“A teal tender engine with red stripes and a zero on its tender,” answered Rellmeer.

“The same train we saw,” mused Arsha.

“That’s not what Dad and Entam drove, though,” remarked Lardeth. “They had a small tank engine in GNWR green with the initials of the railway on its side tanks.”

“Does that mean we have TWO ghosts here?!” yelped Vumfaf.

“No, just one of unknown origin,” replied Lardeth.

“Can we really be so sure it ISN’T Yentil?” asked Endram.

“The night I saw it, the train jumped the path and plunged into the ravine,” recalled Jenmar.

“It was definitely pulling GNWR coaches,” called Rellmeer.

“And when we had our encounter,” recalled Falnii softly, “there was a male human and a female Frostik.”

“And the human WAS at the driver’s place in the cab,” continued Arsha.

“Then, no, Dad,” sighed Lardeth as he rubbed his temples to try and massage away a headache, “we can’t be sure it isn’t my father.”

“But, if it is,” quizzed Golu, “why would the engine look different? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“That’s actually a field of study in researching ghosts,” replied Malnar. “There are those that forgot what they once looked like and have a hard time reconnecting with their loved ones, thus keeping them on the mortal plane.”

“I hate to be the naysayer of this meeting,” called Felfar, “but we still haven’t figured out how we’re gonna get rid of the thing.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” countered Malnar. “You all saw the engine fall, right?”

“We did,” confirmed Felfar.

“Henthal, how much do you remember of your old days as a station pilot for the GNWR before you became a Mechanica?” Malnar continued.

“Everything,” replied Henthal. “I still remember the station you were at as being part of the old main line before Northern Regional bought it.”

“Then we have an opportunity to do something,” declared Malnar. “It sounds like that ghost train’s a Repeater, doomed to repeat the circumstances of their end. The best way to get that kind of ghost to move on is to interrupt that process. We need to find someone Yentil and Entam would listen to and that person needs to tell them they don’t need to take the train on.”

“But...back in the day, outside of his royal duties,” interjected Lardeth, “that was only one man.” The entire Felompha family then got the same idea.

“...There is NO way he’s gonna go for that!” declared Twayfar.

“What are you talking about?” asked Arsha.

“The only one they would listen to on the railway,” explained Roomef, “was the manager of the GNWR, Lord Anfelaf Tomfulmaph, my great-grandfather.”

“Then he’s our best shot,” resolved Malnar. “We need to talk to him and explain the situation.”

“Twayfar’s right,” remarked Lardeth. “Great-great-grandfather Anfelaf’s quite a stubborn man. He’s most likely not going to like the idea.”

* * *

“ARE YOU KIDS OUT OF YOUR MINDS?!” snapped an elderly Zephyr man, Anfelaf Tomfulmaph, as he pointed his cane at Lardeth and his fiancés.

“I warned you,” muttered Lardeth to his lovers before returning his attention to his great-great-grandfather. “Pappy, please, if you’ll let me explain...”

“What’s there to explain, Lardeth?!” demanded Anfelaf. “You want me to tell the ghosts of your father and his co-worker, who’ve been dead for the better part of 200 years, to leave on the vague assumption that they’ll do so?!”

“Dad and Entam always wanted to make you happy,” reminded Lardeth.

“That’s probably one of the reasons they suffered their accident!” countered Anfelaf.

“What do you mean, Sir?” asked Arsha. Anfelaf drew in a breath, then exhaled before speaking.

“I cultivated their egos,” he explained, his voice heavy with regret. “I praised them whenever they delivered their trains on time. They were probably trying to please me when they died, which is why I’m so unwilling to speak to them!”

“You think they’re holding a grudge against you?” asked Falnii.

“Exactly!” confirmed Anfelaf. “They probably hold me responsible for their death! What if they try to take me or something?!”

“Come on, Pappy!” argued Lardeth. “Dad may have been many things, boastful being chief among them, but he was never vindictive! Neither was Entam!”

“Besides, don’t you think you should try?” asked Foresna. “If you don’t, and things keep going the way they are, Wysper City may encounter another economic depression as bad or worse than the Second Age’s Money Crisis.” Anfelaf peered at Foresna closely.

“What’s your name, boy?” he asked.

“Foresna Falshenda, Sir,” replied Foresna.

“...There’s something about you,” muttered Anfelaf.

“Sir?” asked Foresna.

“Do you study history?” quizzed Anfelaf.

“Frequently,” answered Foresna.

“...Lardeth’s picked a spouse with a head on his shoulders,” mused Anfelaf. “...All right!” He then thumped his cane. “I’ll do it!”

“Really, Pappy?!” yelped Lardeth.

“Mr. Falshenda’s right,” continued Anfelaf. “You’ve just had your Tour’s End Ceremony, meaning you’re going to be King when your parents step down. I can’t let your first duties be centered around economic recovery. Let’s enact whatever plan you kids have and see what happens!”

“Oh, thank you, Pappy!” sighed Lardeth. “And thank YOU, Farm Boy!”

“Don’t thank me, Princess,” remarked Foresna. “I was taking a shot in the dark!”

* * *

It was night as Arsha, her lovers, Henthal, and Anfelaf waited at the same station the ghost train stopped at. Black mist then rolled in and formed into an Elf in black, Aldrama, the Fifth Divine One of Ending. “Lord Anfelaf, are you okay?” she asked the elderly Zephyr.

“I’m not shaking just because it’s cold, Lady Aldrama,” replied Anfelaf.

“We really appreciate your help, Pappy,” thanked Lardeth.

“Yes, yes, just don’t go blabbing about it to the other railways,” muttered Anfelaf. “I don’t want them to lose their opinion of me being a cold person.”

“Perish the thought, Pappy,” joked Lardeth. He then turned to Henthal. “Is everything set?”

“The station’s been cleared and Lady Aldrama and I will be on standby,” replied Henthal. “Though, I will admit, I fail to see how much help I can be.”

“You never know,” assured Lardeth.

“This station!” grunted Anfelaf. “I wonder if any railway facility in all the Realms has ever been evacuated because of ghosts!”

“I can’t recall any stories like that in the Under-realm,” answered Malnar. “This is certainly a way to leave your mark in history!”

“Yeah, triumphs and blunders,” muttered Gorfanth, “the two biggest things people remember.”

“Gorfanth!” admonished Falnii.

“All right, I’ll keep my cud to myself!” grumbled Gorfanth. “But, before I do, can I just ask something?”

“What?” asked Arsha.

“What if the ghost doesn’t show up?” asked Gorfanth. A whistle then dispelled that notion.

“That was definitely the whistle of the engine Yentil and Entam drove,” gulped Anfelaf. The train then materialized just past the signal box and glided into the station, stopping as the engine was just beyond the platform.

“It’s up to you now, Pappy,” urged Lardeth. “Good luck!” Anfelaf shuddered as he approached the engine’s cab. He could definitely make out a female Frostik and a male Human.

“Er, Your Majesty? Ms. Onfur?” he gulped. The two figures then twitched their heads as if they heard him. “Yentil, Entam, is that you?” This time, the two figures turned their heads to give him their full attention. Anfelaf gulped again. “Erm, you two are probably wondering why I’m here tonight,” he began. The two figures stared at him. “Er, well, I er...I can’t stay on script. ...I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to...!” yelped Lardeth before Malnar stopped him.

“That may be better for both of them,” she advised.

“I made your egos so large that you were determined to keep your spotless record,” confessed Anfelaf. “I failed in my duty as your old manager. If you insist on taking me, then do so. I won’t stop you.” The station remained silent. Just then, the Frostik firewoman stepped down from the cab, her features becoming more clearer as she stopped in front of Anfelaf. The human male also left the engine’s cab and became more clear in his features. It was a man in regal clothing and a beard. The Frostik was a plump woman with painted claws on her fingers.

“Dad,” whispered Lardeth as his eyes became misty. The ghosts then raised their arms...and knelt down to give Anfelaf a reassuring hug.

“The accident was on our head,” whispered the man, the late King Yentil Felompha, Lardeth’s father.

“We were the one who ignored the conditions and rules concerning the mountain path,” continued the Frostik woman, Entam Glansar. “We’ve never held a grudge against you.”

“Frankly, we were too busy trying to reach our destination to even think about holding a grudge,” Yentil went on. He then turned to Lardeth. “My boy, my precious boy, I’ve missed you. You, your mothers, and your sisters.”

“We’ve missed you too, Dad,” sniffed Lardeth as he embraced his father. They stayed that way for a few seconds before Yentil broke it off.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he sighed. “We still have a train to bring to the Heights. The passengers want another route, but we can’t find one. Every path we take always leads us to the old mountain path.”

“What if I gave you a short-cut?” called Aldrama. The two ghosts then looked hopefully at her. “Now, granted,” continued Aldrama, “it’s going to be an uphill journey, literally, but I can double-head the train with you.”

“...My lady, we would be honored,” answered Entam.

“Before we go,” declared Yentil, “the passengers need to stretch their legs.” The living people braced for the worst as the coaches’ doors opened, still remembering what happened to the woman who looked inside one of the coaches. To their surprise, there was nothing grotesque about the passengers. If anything, they looked as they used to in life. “Ladies and gentlemen,” called Yentil to the passengers, “we’ve just been offered a new path and Lady Aldrama has graciously offered to double-head with us. We will all take five minutes to stretch our legs and draw ourselves to our full height before we continue onwards to our destination. Please be back here as quick as possible so we may continue on our journey.” The passengers were really happy not to be cramped in a box for just a while and took full advantage of the opportunity to walk about. They spoke with the living people and were amazed at Henthal, calling her a credit to all of her places of work. Now, Henthal was a stern engine, but she couldn’t help but feel a small amount of pride at such a compliment. Aldrama then changed forms into a rail-type Mechanica, a tender-engine just like Yentil’s ghost engine, and coupled herself to the front. Once five minutes were up, the passengers boarded the train, asking the living to pass on a message that they loved and missed their loved ones dearly. The living promised to pass the message on from the bottom of their hearts as the conductor, a male Zephyr, counted the passengers. He checked his list over, then poked his head out of his coach’s window.

“ALL ABOARD!” he called. He also blew his whistle and waved a green flag.

“Right away!” called Yentil as he blew his engine’s whistle. Aldrama blew hers as well and both the Divine One and the ghost engine put their pistons to work. A golden track then appeared, leading directly to a light in the sky. The train then switched tracks from the mortal rails to the spectral ones and went straight up to the sky. The passengers waved as the train left the station and the living waved back, still doing so until the train disappeared into the light. It soon faded once the last coach entered it. All that was left was Lardeth and his group. Lardeth wiped a tear from his eye and Arsha placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Dad’s definitely in a better place now,” mumbled Lardeth as he wiped his eyes. He turned to Anfelaf. “I told you he wasn’t vindictive.”

“And you were right, kiddo,” sighed Anfelaf. Everyone noticed that he was standing up straighter than usual. Malnar guessed why.

“Guilt was weighing you down since the accident, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“Exactly,” confirmed Anfelaf. “You know, I’m feeling that much lighter in my heart.”

“Well, I don’t know about you all,” remarked Gorfanth, “but I need some sleep.”

“We all do,” agreed Arsha. “We’ll need to address the city tomorrow morning.”

“Yep,” confirmed Lardeth. “The people who lost their loved ones to that tragedy must know what the passengers said.”


	35. Chapter 35

The instant the news of the ghost train leaving Wysper City reached the citizens, the relief that was felt was intense. Passengers and goods clients returned to the railways and business returned to normal. As an added bonus, the story of the ghost train’s passengers passing on their last message to their loved ones caused the general mood to improve. On top of that, while the rails were still icy and there was still snow, the fog had lifted. Trains could go just a little faster, but only by so much. Now, as Arsha mentioned before, the snow brings other problems too, snow drifts being chief among them. As snow didn’t care where it landed, certain parts of the tracks would be buried, forcing the engines to take up snowplows. Some of the Mechanica engines found them to be uncomfortable, but put up with them to keep the lines cleared. This was a boon for the newly formed Rail Rescue Service. They helped whatever engine they could from any disaster, no matter the livery. As such, they were funded by the government instead of the citizens. Because there were only so many engines in the organization, the others had to help out. Out of all the engines, there were two who excelled in clearing snow; a duo of male Mechanica tender engines named Yalso and Yalsu. They once worked for the railways of the Ralandren plains, just as flat as Wysper City, before they consented to being sent to Northern Regional a month before the Over-union Festival. To hear them talk, the snow drifts they used to clear were twice the size of the ones that appeared on Wysper City’s rails. Thanks to their efforts, many an engine was rescued from a snowy situation. During the festival, they were called to the site of a really large drift. “SWEET ONES!” swore Yalso. “We’ve got a doozy, Yalsu!”

“That thing’s nothing we can’t handle, I’m sure,” mused Yalsu.

“I never said I was worried, just impressed!” chuckled Yalso. “Did Intal want us to wait?”

“No, he said to make a head start on it and…” Yalsu was interrupted by a noise. “…Did…you hear that?”

“It sounded like a whistle,” replied Yalso. “It’s one I recognize, but I can’t place my finger on it.” The whistle sounded again.

“Well, better find out,” declared Yalsu. He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Hello!” he called. “Help is here!”

“Yalso?! Yalsu?! Is that one of you?!” replied a voice.

“Good grief, it’s Jenmar!” yelped Yalso. “Jenmar, are you all right?!”

“I’ve been better,” reported Jenmar. “By Nartor, am I glad it’s you two that are here.”

“How long have you been stuck there?” asked Yalsu.

“I don’t know,” answered Jenmar, “is it 4,006,300,079, TAU?”

“Don’t panic, now,” urged Yalso. “Just wait a moment and we’ll get you out.”

“Wait a moment?!” snapped Jenmar. “Like I’m capable of doing anything else right now!”

“Sorry!” yelped Yalso. “Poor choice of words!”

* * *

Arsha and her lovers sat on a hill in the park, taking in the view of the city. “You know,” sighed Arsha, “it’s really nice looking at the festival from a distance.”

“Especially one that isn’t haunted by ghosts,” mused Lardeth. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad I could say goodbye to Dad, but ghosts tend to cause a dip in morale.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” muttered Malnar. “Still, what happened at the station was really sweet.”

“I’m really glad the train made it to the Heights,” sighed Arsha. “Although, if I may be frank, I kind of want to bring the Heights to the mortal plane, continue having moments like this together.”

“Funny you should mention ‘together’,” mused Lardeth. Arsha arched an eyebrow.

“We just got the paperwork approved,” explained Falnii. Arsha was still a little confused until she recalled Foresna and Gorfanth’s arrival on the _Endeavor_.

“…Are you guys serious?!” she squeaked happily.

“We’re all living together once the festival is over!” confirmed Falnii. Arsha squeed in happiness.

“BEST! NEWS! EVER!” she announced as she tightly hugged her lovers.

“I can’t wait to see what the _Endeavor_ looks like from the inside,” giggled Malnar. It was only after she completed her sentence that everyone realized something was not usual.

“…Malnar, black mist just came out of your mouth,” remarked Gorfanth.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” groaned Malnar as the embrace broke off. “I have dark breath again!”

“Have you been eating bananas again?” asked Foresna.

“I know they don’t agree with me,” sighed Malnar, “but I had such a craving for them! …Is it bad?” She opened her mouth and everyone goggled.

“Malnar, I can only see your teeth,” reported Lardeth. “Everything else is just obscured by black mist.”

“Have you got something for that?” asked Falnii. Malnar nodded as she tightly closed her mouth. “Well, then, let’s go use it,” declared Falnii. “Where is it?” Malnar, too embarrassed to open her mouth, pointed to Lardeth’s castle off in the distance.

“Then let’s head home and get it cleared,” affirmed Lardeth. He led the way back to the castle. The instant they went into the castle and the door shut behind them, Malnar dashed to the bathroom near Lardeth’s room and brushed her teeth furiously and then gargled with mouthwash. After that, she checked her breath, then sighed once she was satisfied. She was still blushing like mad over the whole thing. As she and her lovers met up in the castle’s foyer, she was holding her arm and looking sideways.

“It’s all right,” soothed Gorfanth. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Still embarrassing,” mumbled Malnar. That was when someone stormed past them. “…Was that…Rokalla?” muttered Malnar.

“It was,” confirmed Lardeth. “What’s he doing here?”

“No sense in staying ignorant about it,” mused Gorfanth.

“He’s heading to the throne room. Come on,” declared Lardeth. They arrived at the throne room’s doors to see Rokalla throw the doors open. “Okay, NONE of my parents like that!” gulped Lardeth. “Maybe we should defuse the situation, somehow.”

“Not a bad idea,” agreed Arsha. They entered the throne room just as Rokalla began heaping verbal abuse!

“WHAT IN THE DEEPEST PARTS OF THE DEPTHS ARE YOU DOING, LETTING HER GO LIKE THAT?!” he shouted at Lardeth’s parents. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU LOT WOULD DO SOMETHING SO DUMB AFTER WHAT SHE DID! SHE’S MINE! I’LL…!”

“HOW DARE YOU BURST IN HERE AND ADDRESS US IN SUCH A MANNER!” thundered Roomef.

“But…!” stammered Rokalla.

“BE SILENT AND STAND TO ATTENTION!” roared Endram. He then drew in a breath before continuing. “We have company.” He pointed out a female Troll in full Realmfleet Regalia. Arsha and her lovers gasped before saluting with Rokalla.

“Supreme Admiral Aldarval!” gulped Rokalla. “Please, excuse my outburst, but…”

“No, Admiral Rokalla, I won’t!” snarled Aldarval. “That was completely unacceptable and unbecoming of a Realmfleet Officer! Do that again and I’ll have your balls on a plate! Out!”

“Just a moment, Supreme Admiral!” called Lardeth. “What’s going on here? I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I’m simply here on your parents’ summons,” explained Aldarval.

“Summons?” asked Arsha. “Why were you summoned here?”

“To ensure that Wysper City would be ready for war, should the situation with Dr. Borg and her cronies escalate that far,” replied Olmarfa.

“War?” gulped Falnii. “Has it…?”

“The Final War hasn’t begun yet,” assured Aldarval, “but we must be ready. With Remsu escaping, there’s no telling when that will happen.”

“That’s why I came in here!” snapped Rokalla. “They gave the order to recapture her to Onfuu!”

“Onfuu?” asked Malnar. “I hate to say it, but he’s an utter incompetent when it comes to his job. And, just to clarify, are we talking about the Succubus/Zephyr Blender who was my original First Officer when I did my tour of duty?”

“The same,” confirmed Aldarval.

“I’m lost here,” admitted Arsha.

“I’m sure I told you I didn’t really have the best relationship with my old First officer,” began Malnar. Her lovers nodded. “Well, it all came to a head during the Galdredan affair. The _Meteor_ was tasked with bringing in a Realmfleet Officer turned mass-murderer. Remsu’s someone who believes in putting people in the ground to solve problems, so, during the chase, she went to the ground, cornered the guy, and went against our orders to bring him alive.”

“…She…KILLED…?” gulped Arsha.

“Sliced the poor guy’s head off,” confirmed Malnar. “During her arrest, she killed a few of our crewmates. I had to have her court-martialed and she was sentenced to life in prison. If she’s escaped, then Onfuu’s a terrible choice. Aldarval, I really recommend that you let Rokalla find her!”

“Onfuu’s a solid, reliable Officer,” countered Aldarval, “unlike Rokalla at the moment. He used to be our best man, but, ever since the destruction of the _Skyshell_ , he’s gone to pieces. Rokalla, your wife told me you had to take some time off for mental issues!”

“Why would she tell you that?!” snapped Rokalla.

“Admiral, with all due respect,” interjected Malnar, “I can’t let Onfuu go through with this case without someone like Rokalla. I’m going to have Daddy implement Paragraph 37 of the Realmfleet Accords.”

“You want him to order me to let someone that is mentally unfit in every respect to take this case?!” growled Aldarval. “I highly doubt he’d do something that dumb on your say-so, even if you’re his future replacement!”

“Maybe he won’t,” called Olmarfa, “but I would.”

“…You wouldn’t dare!” hissed Aldarval.

“Try me,” challenged Olmarfa. The tension could be cut with a knife!

“…Fine, fine, Rokalla, you can find Remsu,” grumbled Aldarval. “But, know this, you WILL be working with Onfuu.”

“Understood, Supreme Admiral,” confirmed Rokalla.

“Dismissed,” growled Aldarval. Rokalla saluted and left the throne room. “Now, with that out of the way, once the festival is over,” declared Aldarval, “I’ll need to visit the Drelda Forest. The Fae will be excellent if it ever comes to war.”

“Rellmeer will NOT like it, I can tell you,” muttered Lardeth.

“No, but she’ll understand the necessity,” remarked Aldarval. “I must go. Farewell.” She left the throne room and Lardeth and his parents and lovers released their breath.

“Man, she is intense!” shuddered Arsha.

“She DOES get the job done,” replied Endram.

“In any event, preparing for war is what Dr. Borg’s master wants!” argued Arsha.

“We’ve tried the diplomatic route,” answered Olmarfa, “but Dr. Borg’s refused to reply to us. We need to cover all bases before we take any further action.”

“Lardeth, Falnii, Arsha, Foresna, Malnar, Gorfanth,” proclaimed Roomef, “what you’ve seen today does NOT leave this room, is that clear?” Arsha and her lovers looked at each other before nodding.

“Crystal, Your Majesty,” answered Gorfanth. “We won’t discuss this with anyone.”

“Thank you,” bid Roomef. “Now, come here and give us all a hug!” Lardeth, his parents, and his lovers then joined together in a mutual embrace.


	36. Chapter 36

The Festival came to an end and all the royal families gathered in the stadium. Feemnaf took her place at the podium and cleared her throat. “With the day winding down, so too does the Over-union Festival,” she began. “I must say, this is one for the books. In all honesty, I wish I saw Uncle Yentil’s ghost. Still, I’m glad he’s moved on and is in a better place. On top of that, Lardeth’s tour of duty ended this week, so that’s the entire Felompha family that proudly had their command skills tested out! But, it looks like Lar’s been bitten by the travel bug and is going with his fiancés, one of them on her tour, to go across the Realms again. To that, I say best of luck to you, my favorite cousin!”

“You say that to every single one of your cousins!” called Lardeth.

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” countered Feemnaf. “Now, all that’s left is to close the day out by lighting the Closing Torch and setting off the fireworks! If all the heads of the royal families may stand, please tell us your name and what kingdom you rule as you donate your mana to light that sucker!” Larana was the first.

“I am Queen Larana Ignarsen and I rule the Blasarda Desert,” she purred as she and her family let their mana drift to the torch.

“I am King Elm Stonewood and I rule the Rooka Forest,” rumbled Elm as he and his family did the same.

“I am Empress Rellmeer Almaydia and I rule the Drelda Forest.”

“I am Queen Glanmaj Janfo and I rule the Chromanian Sea Merfolk Kingdom.”

“I am King Lektem Yantoru and I rule the Coliamdii Kingdom.”

“I am Queen Ulumeye Yantefa and I rule the Lunarimba Sea Merfolk Kingdom.”

“I am King Hekcho Tolandah and I rule the Falchineve Drider Colony.”

“I am King Gekshar Stonefoot and I rule the Altiam Mountains.”

“I am King Heenda Untarfu and I rule the Ralandren Plains.”

“I am King Jeltam Yalunai and I rule the Regalin Sea Merfolk Kingdom.”

“I am Queen Yalmu Ilmator and I rule the Calando Merfolk Kingdom.”

“I am King Henjar Yerumal and I rule Dwalna City.”

“I am Queen Keelma Maropwem and I rule the Sacchrinda Kingdom.”

“I am King Belnki Lorpeth and I rule Vorkath, on top of being a new daddy!” Belnki showed off his new daughter. The crowd cheered as they congratulated Belnki and Balma.

“I thought Balma looked pregnant!” chuckled Arsha to Lardeth.

“Since Feemnaf’s going to be spared saying all of our names,” called Roomef, “I am Queen Roomef Felompha and I rule Wysper City.” Once all of the mana had been donated, the torch leapt into the air with the largest flame imaginable and lit the fireworks surrounding it. They sailed into the sky, whistling as they traveled, then exploded in a spectacular array of colors. Once the fireworks show ended, the royal families filed back to their ships. Arsha and her lovers led the Felomphas to the _Endeavor_ so Lardeth could give his goodbyes.

“Now you call us as much as you can, you hear me?!” asked Olmarfa.

“Loud and clear, Mama,” promised Lardeth. After all of his family got him in an embrace, he had to wiggle out to get some breathing room and finally say his goodbyes. “I shall return!” he called. Once he and his lovers got inside, the ramp closed behind them.

“Come on, all of you,” invited Arsha. “It’s time for us all to be on the bridge.” They made their way to the bridge to see everyone at their station. Lardeth, Malnar, and Falnii gasped in amazement.

“So...pretty!” breathed Falnii.

“She’s a sight, ain’t she?” agreed Gorfanth.

“Feels better now that your visit IS authorized?” asked Malak.

“...What’s THAT supposed to mean?” quizzed Lardeth.

“Nothing!” yelped Foresna.

“Remember when I told you guys about my hairpiece and what happened while it was being drained off?” reminded Arsha.

“What about it?” asked Malnar.

“Those two knuckleheads,” answered Arsha as she pointed to Foresna and Gorfanth, “decided to tour the bridge while I was napping!”

“Boys!” admonished Falnii as she, Malnar, and Lardeth glared at them with their hands on their hips.

“We wanted to see the bridge!” wailed Foresna.

“Okay, let’s not rib on them anymore,” advised Arsha. “Shalvey, do we have a mission?”

“Over-splitter activity has increased by the Drelda Forest,” replied Shalvey. “Something’s making them desperate enough to attack any ship trying to get into it, even Fae ships. Rellmeer’s requested an escort.”

“Tell the _Majestic_ ,” ordered Arsha, “that we’ll be happy to escort them safely to the Capital Tree.”

“The _Majestic_ ’s acknowledged the offer,” reported Shalvey, “...correction, they’ve accepted the offer. Rellmeer wants me to extend her personal thanks to you, Captain. She’s suggested that they’ll go first and we bring up the rear.”

“Tell her we’ll be right behind her,” answered Arsha. “Nazay, once the _Majestic_ is cleared for launch and is high enough in the air, follow her, nice and easy.”

“Understood, Captain,” replied Nazay. After the _Majestic_ took off, the _Endeavor_ followed suit.

* * *

What caused the Over-splitters to attack? Simple, Dr. Borg’s Realm Trinity Empire. They had received word that associates of hers had left prison and were after them. An Over-splitter ship concealed itself as a Realmfleet prison ship appeared. Inside the ship’s bridge were four people, three of them Arsha personally knew: Jargoon, Reb, and Melgem! The woman in the Captain’s chair was a Succubus/Zephyr Blender with no wings or tail. “Aaaand, we’re clear!” cheered Jargoon. “Say goodbye to Realmfleet Max, say goodbye to security guards with personalities like broken coral, say goodbye to boring routine, and say hello to freedom!”

“Of a sort, Jargoon,” corrected the Blender woman, “victory of a sort. You work for me now, all of you do.”

“And I, for one,” praised Reb, “am IMMENSELY grateful for the opportunity to work with you, Remsu! Together, we can achieve EXCELLENT things! Together, we shall show those HORRID Realmfleet idiots what we can do against those VILE Splitters!”

“Splitters, Realmfleet,” dismissed the Blender woman, Remsu, “my organization’s plans reach far beyond both.”

“Yes, well, not to sound ungrateful,” remarked Melgem, “but, for a member of a shadowy organization with such overweening ambitions, you’ve picked decidedly underwhelming crewmates. I fail to see why you insisted on the likes of Hanthar staying behind, but letting the likes of Fenfir and Jargoon coming with us.”

“Remsu, you’ve been hailed, Ma’am,” called Jargoon as he snarled at Melgem. “Says he wants to talk to you privately. Patching him through now.” Remsu picked up a communicator and held it to her ear.

“Well? Who is it?” asked Remsu.

“I’m known by many names,” answered a deep, intimidating male voice. “Today, however, today you can call me Death!”

“...I think I’ll stick to your real name of Oltor,” muttered Remsu.

“As you wish,” chuckled the voice of the Supreme Over-splitter, Oltor. “It makes no difference, mud-blood. Your odds aren’t good. Your time has come.”

“You expect me to be surprised,” mused Remsu. “Did you expect me to not know about this? Word about me making it onto your hit-list, at the top, I must add, reached me while I was still in prison.

“She’s not trying to talk to Oltor, is she?” Melgem gulped to Jargoon.

“I’m trying to listen in!” hissed Jargoon. “It sounds like she IS talking to Oltor, but don’t panic. He’s not after us.”

“Your chances of survival are negligible,” taunted Oltor.

“You talk about chances as if I can’t control how this plays out,” purred Remsu. “Scan this whole ship and run a life-form check against your list. You’ll find that the entire crew is made up of people on your list.”

“What are you proposing?” asked Oltor.

“An exchange,” answered Remsu. “Their lives for mine.”

“The b***h’s selling us out!” hissed Jargoon to Melgem.

“Disengage, now!” Melgem hissed back.

“What?! Why?!” demanded Jargoon.

“Because Reb and I know from personal experience,” answered Melgem, “that the Splitter Branches DON’T negotiate and this isn’t a good time to eavesdrop!”

“No deal,” Oltor scoffed to Remsu. “I work my way through the list in order, no deviations. Rest assured, I’ll hunt down the others in due course, but, today, mud-blood, is all about you!”

“While I can’t say that response was unexpected, that’s still incredibly inefficient,” sighed Remsu. “The amount of wasted effort involved is...”

“Sssshhh, now it’s MY turn to talk and your turn to...” Remsu wasn’t having it as she crushed the communicator.

* * *

“The line’s dead,” remarked a scarred, white-furred Inu, Oltor, “but Remsu isn’t. Could it be she knew what I was trying to...?” His musing was interrupted as the ship rocked. “Report!” he barked.

“Dr. Borg’s ship just decloaked and fired!” reported his Pixie First Officer. “Our ship’s about to blow! The engine core can’t be ejected!”

“ABANDON SHIP!” ordered Oltor. “ALL HANDS, ABANDON...!”

* * *

Oltor’s ship exploded before any escape pods could be launched. Meanwhile, the _Scorpion_ moved towards the prison ship. “Reb!” called Melgem. “The _Scorpion_ ’s coming at us at attack speed! We’ve got to get out of here!”

“Jargoon, where’s the escape pod?” asked Reb.

“These kinds of ships don’t HAVE escape pods!” answered Jargoon.

“Do you have any suggestions?” quizzed Reb.

“I suggest that we use a teleportation spell,” Jargoon went on, “and get to the ground!”

“I know a good spot!” called Melgem.

“Then get us there,” ordered Reb. As the three vanished in one teleport spell, Remsu was caught up in another as the _Scorpion_ prepared its weapons.

* * *

Remsu ended up on the _Scorpion_ ’s bridge next to Dr. Borg. A Merman and a male Cecaelia stood by her as well. Yulduk and Jansha were at their stations and Scorpo was in the First Officer’s seat. Dr. Borg keyed in a command and the Captain’s chair widened to allow for four people to sit in it. The Merman, Cecaelia, and Remsu sat next to Dr. Borg with the two ladies in the middle of the men. “Much better,” purred Remsu. “I see that Shefarn and Tensam evaded capture.”

“Always, my lovely, blended bride,” replied the Cecaelia, Tensam.

“Oh, we’ve missed you,” sighed the Merman, Shefarn, as he pulled Remsu into an embrace.

“So, Cy,” mused Tensam, “when do we strike? I wish to see the Eternal Age of Unity.”

“Have patience, Tenny,” replied Dr. Borg as she took one of his tentacles and placed in her lap, giving him a sign to coil her in it. “We shall start when our armies are built up. When the time is right, we shall take our rightful place as rulers of the Realms, the eternal rule of Cytanek, Remsu, Tensam, and Shefarn Borg!”


End file.
